Fic: Well Maybe What You Want is Right Here 33/?
Title: Well Maybe What You Want is Right Here 33/?
Pairing: Arizona/Callie
Rating: M
Summary: Sometimes we don't realize what we want until we just know. And sometimes we realize that certain things are worth fighting for. Starts a day or two after the scene in 11x08, and follows Callie and Arizona over the next year and possibly more. Timeline may not be perfectly canon.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
A/N: I just want to state for the record, I don't speak Spanish at all beyond asking where the bathroom and the airport are. So my translations here are courtesy of Google Translate and I apologize if they're a little off.
Also, I want to give a shout-out to debblue for inspiring part of this chapter with a comment she left me this summer. The idea stuck with me, and I decided to go with it.
And, finally, for any fellow Canadians -- Happy Thanksgiving this weekend!
Chapters 1 - 32
Arizona
I'm woken up a few days later by the faint dip and jostle of the bed, small hands reaching for purchase and tugging at the blankets as Sofia climbs up over my legs. Opening one eye blearily, I watch as she straddles my thighs -- since her usual place on my stomach is unattainable -- and plunks herself down to sit on me.
"Momma, you're up!"
"Mm," I close my eyes again, "no I'm not. I'm sleeping."
"You're not sleeping. I saw you."
She leans up over me and squeezes my cheeks between her hands.
"Mommaaaa."
"Mmk I'm awake," I blink a few times, peering up at her with a small smile, "morning, baby."
"I'm not the baby," she sits back, laying her hands on top of my belly, "this is the baby."
I chuckle softly as her brow furrows, and I reach down to smooth her unruly bedhead a little, relishing the feel of her hair under my fingers. It's mostly straight, but it has waves like Calliope's, and has the same soft, silky texture too. She's looking so grown up these days. Over the last couple months her face has really changed, and her soft baby chub is shifting into a leaner, stronger little body. It makes me nostalgic for the time when she could fit into the crook of my arm; for a little head nestled against my chest, tiny fists grabbing at my necklace.
"You'll always be my baby. Even when you're all grown up."
"Why?"
She looks at me curiously, playing with the fabric of my tank top now that she's pulled the covers down.
"Because you were my first baby. And even when you're big and tall like me, I'll remember when you were this tiny."
I show her with my hands, smiling at her as she giggles softly.
"And because you are the most important person in my life, Sofia. You and your new sister. I am always, always going to love you both more than anything."
She smiles, leaning up over me and giving me a sweet kiss.
"I love you too, Momma. And I love new baby. She is in the way though."
I can't help laugh at the adorable scrunch of her nose as she sighs down at the baby bump. Her usual manoeuvre anytime she finds me laying on my back has always been to stretch herself out on top of my body, head nestled under my chin. My expanding midsection has made that pretty impossible anymore though.
"Well, she won't be in there forever."
"I hope my sister likes to colour," she immediately perks up again, "do you think she likes to colour?"
Sofia had been ecstatic the other day when we came home from shopping and told her at dinner that she was going to have a little sister. She'd been talking about it for weeks beforehand, asking us to make the baby a girl, and she hasn't stopped talking about it for the past four days either. I love how much she's embracing the idea of a sibling.
"I don't know, sweetie. She won't be able to colour right away -- but I bet once she's old enough you can teach her."
"Do you think she likes Curious George?" she looks down at my stomach, petting it lightly, "I have all of the books."
"She'll love if you read your books to her. You could read to her now if you wanted."
Small dark eyes look up at me, an eyebrow quirking curiously.
"She isn't borned yet!"
"She can hear us though," I smile, rubbing my hand lightly over my side, "she can hear us from all the way inside."
"Really?"
Her eyes widen, looking down again in surprise.
"Yep, really. So if we talk to her, then when she's born she'll recognize our voices. I used to talk to you allllll the time when you were in mommy's belly."
"You did? Did I know you were momma when I was born?"
The sudden memory of Sofia's birth flashes into my mind -- both the best day of my life and also one of the worst. The first time I touched our daughter she was only as big as the palm of my hand. Her eyes didn't open until nearly two months later...but yet, when I think back to the hours and the endless nights spent sitting in the neonatal unit, I think she did know I was hers.
"I think you did," I speak softly, reaching up to trail my thumb along her cheek, "and mommy too."
She runs her hands along my abdomen, tracing back and forth over the rounded skin, a thoughtful look on her face.
"Does my sister have a daddy? I had one."
I knew that question was bound to come up at some point. Callie didn't think she would make the connection, but I know kids -- I've spent my career working with kids -- and I know they think of things we never dream they can comprehend. Sofia wasn't even two yet when Mark died, so she has no memory of him, but we've never tried to erase him from her life either. She has a picture of the two of them on her dresser, and there's a picture of the four of us on the bookshelf in the living room; the picture from the night we brought Callie and her home from the hospital. I may not have always gotten along with Mark, but he was her father, and he was kind of like family -- he loved her, and I'm never going to pretend otherwise.
"No, she doesn't, sweetie. You were really special, having three parents."
"I don't remember though."
"That's okay."
She pokes a finger lightly into my belly, curiosity lighting up in her eyes again.
"What's my sister's name?"
Now that is the question of the hour. We still have no idea.
"Well..." I watch her, "she doesn't have a name yet. Mommy and I still have to decide."
The little girl pauses then, frowning a bit.
"Babies don't come with names?"
A laugh bubbles up from my throat at the sheer seriousness of her tone, and I feel Callie shift in the bed beside me, rolling over to curl up closer with a sleepy mumble.
"Do you think you had a little tag on your toe with your name on it?"
I grin, reaching for her foot and tickling her toes lightly, and she lets out a peal of giggles, kicking my hand away.
"My bear came with a name!"
I reach for her hands, threading fingers with her and grinning as I cast a glance to my now definitely-awake wife.
"We picked your name for you. And we're going to pick one for your sister soon too."
"Can you pick Nala?"
The Lion King had been my parents latest gift to her -- the newest in her growing Disney collection. Needless to say, it had already become a favourite.
"Um...maybe. We'll definitely consider it."
"Or Sparkles."
Sparkles had been the name of a puppy in the pet store window at the mall last time we visited.
"Mm yeah, I like that one."
Callie's sleepy voice sounds from beside me, and I turn my head, eyebrow raising slightly in amusement.
"Sparkles Torres," she says it thoughtfully, "that has a nice ring to it."
Sofia beams happily, climbing off me to lean down and smooch her mother's cheek.
"Morning, mommy!"
The older brunette pulls her arm from underneath the covers and captures the girl in a hug, giggles ringing out as she squirms to get away after a minute.
"I'm hungry now! And I wanna watch TV."
She manages to pull away, and I roll to my side, patting her lightly on the bum.
"Well it's Saturday, so you can have the cereal with the marshmallows if you want. And you can go watch cartoons for a little bit."
"Mallows!"
Her small face lights up and she scrambles to the end of the bed, hopping down.
"Call if you need help with the milk, okay? Pour slowly."
"I can do it," she beams at us and takes off out of the room, "don't worry!"
Smiling to myself, I snuggle over a little closer to my wife, letting a small yawn escape me. Sofia's gotten pretty good at the whole cereal thing, so we may actually get another half hour of quiet time to ourselves this morning.
"Sparkles, huh?"
"Mm," she slides her hand under my tank top, her palm warm against my skin, "Sparkles Rainbow Torres."
"Our child is going to be a lesbian stripper."
Callie snorfles a little into the pillow before flashing me a grin and leaning in to kiss me.
"I mean hey, I'll support whatever life choices she ends up making."
She shifts down on the bed a bit, pushing my tank top over the bump and pressing a soft kiss just above my disappearing belly button. I watch as her lips linger for a moment, and she lightly kisses a few more spots as her hand caresses my stomach.
"Good morning, baby girl."
She speaks quietly, and a smile tugs at my lips. I smooth my hand over her dark hair, running soft strands through my fingers.
"I love you, baby. I love you so much. And we won't give you a stripper name, I promise. We're going to come up with a really great name for you, because you're going to be awesome just like your momma."
A sudden movement deep in my belly gives me pause, and I catch my breath for a moment, stilling my hand. It was faint, but it was definitely not just hungry stomach grumbling.
Callie rubs her hand across my skin again, her thumb tracing soft circles against me, and I feel another few gentle movements -- unmistakable this time.
"Holy crap, that is...weird."
"What?" the brunette looks up, concern etching itself across her brow, "are you okay?"
"I think...she's kicking me, Callie," I laugh as I feel it again, and press my own hand against my rounded midsection, "I can feel her."
My wife's eyes widen instantly, a grin spreading across her face as she looks back toward my stomach.
"Really?"
"Definitely. I felt a few flutters last week, but I couldn't really tell them apart from anything else. But she is definitely moving around in there right now."
I can't help smile again at the look of awe on her face, and I cup her cheek, drawing her up until I can capture her lips against mine, kissing her sweetly. She sighs contentedly, sliding her hand along my neck, and I lose myself in her for a few long minutes before resting my head back against the pillow.
"She must like her mommy's voice," I stroke a finger along her cheek, "just like me."
"I hope she's a lot of things like you."
The other woman shifts again so she's laying on her side facing me, her arm draping comfortably around my side.
"I keep picturing this tiny version of you -- the hair, the eyes, those dimples," she grins a little, "as if Sofia's dimple isn't enough. I'm doomed."
I laugh softly as she lets out a dramatic sigh.
"Well, the dimples I can't say -- but she's not going to be a blonde, I'm afraid. That's pretty certain."
"Hey, you don't know. My cousin Mariana was half and half, and she ended up with hair almost as light as yours. And those Robbins genes are strong -- you and Tim both look exactly like your mom."
"Okay, well I suppose you never know."
"I really hope she has your eyes though, that's what I'm holding out for."
"She needs a name," I grin, "we really should work on that soon."
"Well, you don't like Sparkles so...Glitter?"
"Callie, our child is not a character from the Hunger Games."
"That was Glimmer. Shame on you, you're a kid doctor. You should know that."
She rubs my lower back, her palm massaging slow circles over it, and I consider the names that have been rolling around in my head the last week. We've gone through so many and still just haven't found the right one, but yesterday I thought of something that I actually really like.
"What about Audrey?" I look at her suddenly, "Audrey Rosa."
The brunette glances up at me, pausing to consider for a moment, and her face takes on a thoughtful expression.
"Audrey," she tests it out, letting the name slip slowly from her lips, "Audrey Torres. I...actually really like that. It's a beautiful name, but it sounds kind of badass too."
"It's a little bit different -- I feel like you don't hear it very often. But it's still a classic."
Callie hums softly, smoothing her hand up and down my side as she tests the name out a few more times. The more I hear it spoken out loud, the more I'm liking the sound of it on her lips. She's right; it sounds feminine, but also strong -- and it doesn't easily have a nickname, which is something I also like. And it just kind of fits with our family; Sofia and Audrey, Audrey and Sofia. I can picture introducing my children that way.
"I kind of love it actually," I rub the front of my stomach, and feel a faint movement in response, "definite front-runner?"
"No, I think it's perfect. I think that's her name."
Silence falls over us and we rest comfortably for a few moments, limbs just tangled lazily together, and the faint sound of cartoons from the living room floats down the hall. Mornings like this are my favourite. I know in a little bit we'll get up and get some breakfast, and go curl up on the couch with Sofia, snuggling into a warm, cozy pile. Neither of us are on-call today, so we have nothing but time to relax together.
"Do you want to give her Robbin as a middle name too?" Callie speaks again, contemplative, "I mean...Sofia got all of our names, and it wouldn't be that weird if they shared it, would it?"
"I don't think it would be weird, no, but I also don't need them to -- I wouldn't want Sofia to think she has to share her name on top of everything else." I pause slightly, smiling at her, "Besides, don't forget that I'm a Torres now. So Audrey will have my name regardless."
The brunette grins then, leaning in to press a light kiss to my lips.
"Mm, you are. Have I ever mentioned how much I love that? It's my possessive caveman streak."
"You do like hammering things and breaking bones."
I can't help but laugh, although I'll willingly admit I kind of love her possessive streak -- mostly because I have one too.
"Can't start a fire to save my life, though."
"MOMMYYYY."
I grin teasingly at my wife, rolling onto my back and arching into a stretch.
"Looks like that's your cue. Will you make me hot chocolate?"
I watch as she pushes herself up to sitting, mimicking me and raising her arms into a lengthy stretch.
"Mm, of course. And French toast?"
She climbs up and grabs the Hopkins zip-up hoodie that I'd abandoned on the chair last night, slipping it on over her pajamas. I close my eyes for just a moment longer, relishing the warmth of the bed before I get up to join her, and I hear Sofia calling again, a little more insistently this time. A warm pair of lips presses against my forehead and then I hear the soft sound of bare feet against the hardwood as my wife disappears out of the room.
"Sounds amazing."
*
Callie
"Momma, es detrás de la escuela! Se esconde!" (Momma, he's behind the school! He's hiding!)
"¿Es él?" Arizona peers at the screen and plays along, "¿Estas seguro?" (Is he? Are you sure?)
Sofia giggles, pointing at the television where one of her favourites, Dora the Explorer, is playing.
"I see his botas rojas !" (I see his red boots!)
I grin at the little girl's excitement as she deduces the puzzle on the show, and at the seamless way she shifts into her second language; she's almost as fluent in Spanish already as she is in English, and it still floors me sometimes how smart she is. We're both really happy that she's picked it up so well, considering she doesn't hear it every day, and I absolutely adore that it's as important to my wife as it is to me.
Arizona did speak a little Spanish when we met -- she'd taken it throughout high school -- but she was rusty at best and hadn't really used it in years. When she laid claim to being Sofia's mother though she'd almost immediately enrolled in language courses at North Seattle College, attending four semesters' worth of night classes before our daughter learned to talk. Not an easy feat on top of her workload, teaching, and dealing with a pregnant girlfriend at home.
And it's not something I asked her to do, either. I hadn't doubted her commitment to raising a child with me, but that had been a defining moment all the same -- the moment I knew she was in a hundred and fifty percent.
Sofia scoots down off my lap and deposits herself on the floor in front of the coffee table, pulling over her crayons and colouring books while she sings along with the show, and I take the opportunity to shift closer to Arizona on the couch. I rest my head on her shoulder with a small yawn and the blonde wraps her arm around me, her fingers skimming absently through the ends of my ponytail.
"Do you want to do something today, or just hang out around here?"
"Let's just do nothing," I reply, inhaling the faint scent of her shampoo that's lingering from yesterday, "I feel like it's been a long week."
"It has been, especially for you. A lazy day sounds good to me."
"Maybe we can play outside later, bake some c-o-o-k-i-e-s or something. And tonight," I glance up at her and grin, "I have four episodes of the Great British Bake-Off on the DVR for us."
I feel her soft laugh reverberate against me, and I can tell there's a smile on her face without having to see it.
"Now that sounds like a hot date to me. I knew I married you for a reason."
My phone starts ringing after a second, and I let out a low groan of discontent as I sit up and reach for it amid the crayons on the table. This better not be someone from the hospital, because I do not feel like dealing with anything work related today. A quick glance at the screen though tells me that it's actually my sister -- a pleasant surprise.
"Hey, it's Aria."
I smile, getting up so I won't disturb Dora, and meander out toward the kitchen as I hit the button to answer the call.
"Hey, Aria! Long time no talk. I mean, outside of emails anyway."
"Hi Callie," the familiar voice sounds in my ear, "yeah, it's been awhile I know -- I've been doing a lot of travelling for work. Things have been kind of nuts. How are you, though? And Arizona and Sofia?"
"Good -- things have been busy here too, as always. Arizona's doing great though. We just found out we're having another girl."
Just saying it out loud brings a huge smile to my face -- I can't help it. I want to tell everyone.
"Really? Oh wow, Cal -- that's great. God, I feel like I'm still getting used to the idea that you have a kid at all, and now you're going to have two."
"I mean, it's been almost five years, Aria. It's not exactly new."
"I know, but..." she trails off a little, clearing her throat, "well, anyways, that's really great. I can't wait to meet her. Listen though, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."
"What is it? And when are you finally going to come visit, by the way?"
"Callie -- I just wanted to talk to you myself, before you talked to dad. Or someone else."
Her tone has changed, taking on a slightly more serious -- and almost resigned -- note, and I frown slightly as I drop into a seat at the kitchen table.
"What's going on? Is someone sick...? I talked to dad just last week and he didn't say anything--"
"They're getting divorced."
The words hang in the air, complete shock hitting me as I process what my sister has just said.
"They...what?"
"They're getting a divorce. Dad told me the other day."
Aria sounds surprisingly nonchalant about what she's telling me, but I'm just completely taken by surprise. My parents? Getting a divorce? My dad had flown to Seattle and practically begged me to give Arizona another chance the first time we separated, spouting all his morals about commitment and "relationships are hard work". Not to mention that they're both staunchly Catholic and don't even believe in divorce in the first place.
"I can't even process this. Our parents? Our Catholic, moral-to-a-fault parents are splitting up after nearly fifty years? What the hell happened? They can't be serious. It must have been something freaking earth-shattering that they're even talking about that--"
"Callie..."
She cuts me off mid-sentence, but she sounds almost hesitant, pausing for a moment before she continues her thought.
"He's tired of the way she's treated you. She continues to refuse to even acknowledge you and Arizona, and Sofia -- she gets pissy if dad and I even talk about you guys -- and he said enough was finally enough."
Her reply leaves me speechless, and I stare at the wall across from the table, the realization of what she's saying slamming into me.
"That's why I wanted to talk to you first. I know you're going to blame yourself -- at least partially -- and you need to know that this is not your fault. Do you hear me? Dad came to this decision on his own, and he told me it had been a long time coming. They've been fighting for years -- you just don't see it cause you're not down here."
"They've been fighting over...me, though," I finally find some words, although I'm unsure what I'm even feeling right now, "It's kind of...drastic, isn't it? They've been together for so long...they always loved each other. She doesn't have to be involved with me, I've accepted that."
"They love each other, but he loves you more. He told me over lunch the other day...and he honestly seemed confident about it, although kind of resigned. He basically told me that he was sorry they were splitting up, but that he was tired of not being in your life as much as he wants to be. I mean, you know how he feels about Sofia -- and now that you're going to have another baby? I think it kills him that he hardly ever sees you guys. When you came to visit after Christmas he was so happy, but then he felt really guilty about the whole thing that happened with mom. I think he just kind of realized...he wasn't truly supporting you by letting her continue to act that way. And he's right. I mean, I'm kind of guilty of the same thing."
I honestly don't know how I feel right now. My parents are splitting up -- my parents who have been together their entire lives. Even though my mother no longer talks to me, it's kind of jarring.
And...it's because of me. And I'm -- I wipe hastily at the corners of my eyes where tears are threatening to fall -- part of me is almost happy. My dad is truly standing up for me, even against the woman he loves. I'm not sure how to process that after all these years.
"Callie--" Aria speaks again, softly, "I'm upset too, but it is true. And I talked to mom after he told me, and tried to reason with her -- but she just won't see things like a normal person. This isn't just on dad. She's choosing her God over her daughter -- and over her husband. That part's on her."
"Why hasn't dad called me?"
"He's probably worried that you're going to blame yourself, too. You always try to shoulder all the guilt, Callie, you even did when we were kids."
"I just..." I wipe at my eyes again, shaking my head a little in disbelief, "I mean it's just hard to imagine. What's going to happen to the house and everything?"
She lets out a sigh, and I feel bad that a lot of the burden throughout all this has fallen on her, simply because she lives in Miami near them. Have they really been fighting for years about me?
"I don't know. I don't think they've started figuring that much out yet. I imagine he'd give the house to mom though, if she wanted to stay. It'd probably be a lot less of a fight for him to move."
"This is insane. He's seventy-four! Seventy-four-year-olds don't get divorced!"
"They do if there's a good reason."
"I don't know if this is a good reason. He's in my life, Aria -- he comes to visit, we came down at Christmas. And now you're back in my life too so there's really no point--"
"Hermanita," my sister interrupts me again, "you are a good reason. Not having to schedule your visits when she's out of town and not having to tell her he's going on business trips when he's really going to Seattle...yeah, those sound like pretty decent reasons to me. This didn't happen overnight, trust me. He just finally had the balls to really stand up for you. I mean...we both should have years ago, but..."
I feel a presence behind me and I glance back over my shoulder, seeing Arizona quietly standing at the entrance to the kitchen. A concerned look flits across her eyes, and I try to give her a reassuring smile.
"Should I call him?"
Aria is quiet for a moment, as if considering her answer, and my wife's hands slide over my shoulders, her thumbs softly caressing the sides of my neck.
"I think maybe just wait for him to tell you. He will. I just wanted you to have a heads up, you know? I mean we're not kids anymore, but this still isn't easy for anyone."
I nod to myself, listening to her words. And then I sigh, almost hesitating before I ask.
"Do you blame me for causing this? Even a little?"
Her reply is immediate, and it's firm.
"No. I spent enough time blaming you -- letting our mother tell me that I should -- for just being yourself. I'm with dad on this one."
I feel the tension leave my shoulders, and Arizona drapes her arms around my neck, leaning close.
"You should come visit, Aria. It'd be nice."
The older woman chuckles softly on the other end of the phone, my abrupt change of topic bringing a lighter tone to the conversation when she speaks again.
"It would be. Long overdue, huh? Actually...I'll be in Vancouver next month on company business, and I was thinking I could stop in Seattle for a bit on the way home. I haven't taken days off in a long time."
"Please do," I smile now, "we'd love that. Sofia would love to see you again. Just...give me a call, okay? Let me know when, and I'll get a day or two off."
"I will. I should go, but tell her I say hi; Arizona too. And try not to stress too much, okay?"
I snort a little, holding back a laugh.
"Yeah, I'll try."
"Talk to you soon."
The call ends with a click and I shake my head a little, setting my phone down on the table. This is a lot to take in, and it's completely out of the blue. But somehow, I still can't shake the feeling that I'm kind of...happy. Or relieved?
Arizona drops a kiss on my head and I suddenly remember that she's right behind me, the warmth of her hands sliding across my collarbone as she leans up.
"Hey...is everything alright?"
Her tone is soft and laced with concern, and for the millionth time I'm grateful that she can always sense how I feel.
"My parents are apparently getting divorced."
Blue eyes blink in disbelief, and she pulls out the chair next to me at the table, sliding into it to face me.
"What?"
"Yeah. Aria says dad...he's tired of the way my mom has treated me -- us. He's doing it for me, Arizona."
Her hand slides over mine, and I turn my palm up so I can link fingers with her.
"If he's decided to leave your mom over that, he's doing it for him, Calliope. Because he loves you."
"But it just seems...god, they've been married for forty-eight years. Aria says they've been fighting over this the last couple years, but it all started with me."
The blonde pauses for a moment, her eyes truly studying me as they trail over my face, and then she speaks quietly.
"If I hurt Sofia like your mother has hurt you -- if I emotionally abused her, or if I endangered her well-being on purpose...can you honestly say you'd still want to be with me, Callie?"
When she speaks, my eyes immediately find hers, and I can see the genuine honesty in her question. I frown a little, weighing the seriousness of her words and the tone in which she delivered them.
"Because I wouldn't. I want to be with you until the moment I die, but no matter how much I'm in love with you...she's my daughter. My baby. And I don't care if it's you or anyone else, I couldn't be around someone who would purposefully continue hurting her."
There's a fierceness to her eyes, a protectiveness that emanates from her entire being, and...she's right. Because that's what being a mother is; what being a parent is. Love for your children should be unconditional, above all else.
"I just..." I sigh heavily with the realization, looking down at our joined hands, "I wish it hadn't come to this, you know?"
"I know," she leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek, "I wish it hadn't too. I'm...as shocked as you are, honestly. But maybe this is what your dad needs."
"I hope if they go through with it, he won't regret it."
A small smile graces her features, and she cups my jaw, letting her thumb slide softly over my skin.
"I don't think he'll regret getting to fully be in his daughter's life, finally."
"Momma! Where'd everybody go?"
I can't help but laugh softly when I hear our daughter calling from the living room, and I look over to see Arizona grinning at me. It's barely eleven o'clock in the morning, and we still have an entire day ahead of us. Nothing can put a damper on that.
"I think you're right. And I think it's time to make some cookies."
*
Pairing: Arizona/Callie
Rating: M
Summary: Sometimes we don't realize what we want until we just know. And sometimes we realize that certain things are worth fighting for. Starts a day or two after the scene in 11x08, and follows Callie and Arizona over the next year and possibly more. Timeline may not be perfectly canon.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
A/N: I just want to state for the record, I don't speak Spanish at all beyond asking where the bathroom and the airport are. So my translations here are courtesy of Google Translate and I apologize if they're a little off.
Also, I want to give a shout-out to debblue for inspiring part of this chapter with a comment she left me this summer. The idea stuck with me, and I decided to go with it.
And, finally, for any fellow Canadians -- Happy Thanksgiving this weekend!
Chapters 1 - 32
Arizona
I'm woken up a few days later by the faint dip and jostle of the bed, small hands reaching for purchase and tugging at the blankets as Sofia climbs up over my legs. Opening one eye blearily, I watch as she straddles my thighs -- since her usual place on my stomach is unattainable -- and plunks herself down to sit on me.
"Momma, you're up!"
"Mm," I close my eyes again, "no I'm not. I'm sleeping."
"You're not sleeping. I saw you."
She leans up over me and squeezes my cheeks between her hands.
"Mommaaaa."
"Mmk I'm awake," I blink a few times, peering up at her with a small smile, "morning, baby."
"I'm not the baby," she sits back, laying her hands on top of my belly, "this is the baby."
I chuckle softly as her brow furrows, and I reach down to smooth her unruly bedhead a little, relishing the feel of her hair under my fingers. It's mostly straight, but it has waves like Calliope's, and has the same soft, silky texture too. She's looking so grown up these days. Over the last couple months her face has really changed, and her soft baby chub is shifting into a leaner, stronger little body. It makes me nostalgic for the time when she could fit into the crook of my arm; for a little head nestled against my chest, tiny fists grabbing at my necklace.
"You'll always be my baby. Even when you're all grown up."
"Why?"
She looks at me curiously, playing with the fabric of my tank top now that she's pulled the covers down.
"Because you were my first baby. And even when you're big and tall like me, I'll remember when you were this tiny."
I show her with my hands, smiling at her as she giggles softly.
"And because you are the most important person in my life, Sofia. You and your new sister. I am always, always going to love you both more than anything."
She smiles, leaning up over me and giving me a sweet kiss.
"I love you too, Momma. And I love new baby. She is in the way though."
I can't help laugh at the adorable scrunch of her nose as she sighs down at the baby bump. Her usual manoeuvre anytime she finds me laying on my back has always been to stretch herself out on top of my body, head nestled under my chin. My expanding midsection has made that pretty impossible anymore though.
"Well, she won't be in there forever."
"I hope my sister likes to colour," she immediately perks up again, "do you think she likes to colour?"
Sofia had been ecstatic the other day when we came home from shopping and told her at dinner that she was going to have a little sister. She'd been talking about it for weeks beforehand, asking us to make the baby a girl, and she hasn't stopped talking about it for the past four days either. I love how much she's embracing the idea of a sibling.
"I don't know, sweetie. She won't be able to colour right away -- but I bet once she's old enough you can teach her."
"Do you think she likes Curious George?" she looks down at my stomach, petting it lightly, "I have all of the books."
"She'll love if you read your books to her. You could read to her now if you wanted."
Small dark eyes look up at me, an eyebrow quirking curiously.
"She isn't borned yet!"
"She can hear us though," I smile, rubbing my hand lightly over my side, "she can hear us from all the way inside."
"Really?"
Her eyes widen, looking down again in surprise.
"Yep, really. So if we talk to her, then when she's born she'll recognize our voices. I used to talk to you allllll the time when you were in mommy's belly."
"You did? Did I know you were momma when I was born?"
The sudden memory of Sofia's birth flashes into my mind -- both the best day of my life and also one of the worst. The first time I touched our daughter she was only as big as the palm of my hand. Her eyes didn't open until nearly two months later...but yet, when I think back to the hours and the endless nights spent sitting in the neonatal unit, I think she did know I was hers.
"I think you did," I speak softly, reaching up to trail my thumb along her cheek, "and mommy too."
She runs her hands along my abdomen, tracing back and forth over the rounded skin, a thoughtful look on her face.
"Does my sister have a daddy? I had one."
I knew that question was bound to come up at some point. Callie didn't think she would make the connection, but I know kids -- I've spent my career working with kids -- and I know they think of things we never dream they can comprehend. Sofia wasn't even two yet when Mark died, so she has no memory of him, but we've never tried to erase him from her life either. She has a picture of the two of them on her dresser, and there's a picture of the four of us on the bookshelf in the living room; the picture from the night we brought Callie and her home from the hospital. I may not have always gotten along with Mark, but he was her father, and he was kind of like family -- he loved her, and I'm never going to pretend otherwise.
"No, she doesn't, sweetie. You were really special, having three parents."
"I don't remember though."
"That's okay."
She pokes a finger lightly into my belly, curiosity lighting up in her eyes again.
"What's my sister's name?"
Now that is the question of the hour. We still have no idea.
"Well..." I watch her, "she doesn't have a name yet. Mommy and I still have to decide."
The little girl pauses then, frowning a bit.
"Babies don't come with names?"
A laugh bubbles up from my throat at the sheer seriousness of her tone, and I feel Callie shift in the bed beside me, rolling over to curl up closer with a sleepy mumble.
"Do you think you had a little tag on your toe with your name on it?"
I grin, reaching for her foot and tickling her toes lightly, and she lets out a peal of giggles, kicking my hand away.
"My bear came with a name!"
I reach for her hands, threading fingers with her and grinning as I cast a glance to my now definitely-awake wife.
"We picked your name for you. And we're going to pick one for your sister soon too."
"Can you pick Nala?"
The Lion King had been my parents latest gift to her -- the newest in her growing Disney collection. Needless to say, it had already become a favourite.
"Um...maybe. We'll definitely consider it."
"Or Sparkles."
Sparkles had been the name of a puppy in the pet store window at the mall last time we visited.
"Mm yeah, I like that one."
Callie's sleepy voice sounds from beside me, and I turn my head, eyebrow raising slightly in amusement.
"Sparkles Torres," she says it thoughtfully, "that has a nice ring to it."
Sofia beams happily, climbing off me to lean down and smooch her mother's cheek.
"Morning, mommy!"
The older brunette pulls her arm from underneath the covers and captures the girl in a hug, giggles ringing out as she squirms to get away after a minute.
"I'm hungry now! And I wanna watch TV."
She manages to pull away, and I roll to my side, patting her lightly on the bum.
"Well it's Saturday, so you can have the cereal with the marshmallows if you want. And you can go watch cartoons for a little bit."
"Mallows!"
Her small face lights up and she scrambles to the end of the bed, hopping down.
"Call if you need help with the milk, okay? Pour slowly."
"I can do it," she beams at us and takes off out of the room, "don't worry!"
Smiling to myself, I snuggle over a little closer to my wife, letting a small yawn escape me. Sofia's gotten pretty good at the whole cereal thing, so we may actually get another half hour of quiet time to ourselves this morning.
"Sparkles, huh?"
"Mm," she slides her hand under my tank top, her palm warm against my skin, "Sparkles Rainbow Torres."
"Our child is going to be a lesbian stripper."
Callie snorfles a little into the pillow before flashing me a grin and leaning in to kiss me.
"I mean hey, I'll support whatever life choices she ends up making."
She shifts down on the bed a bit, pushing my tank top over the bump and pressing a soft kiss just above my disappearing belly button. I watch as her lips linger for a moment, and she lightly kisses a few more spots as her hand caresses my stomach.
"Good morning, baby girl."
She speaks quietly, and a smile tugs at my lips. I smooth my hand over her dark hair, running soft strands through my fingers.
"I love you, baby. I love you so much. And we won't give you a stripper name, I promise. We're going to come up with a really great name for you, because you're going to be awesome just like your momma."
A sudden movement deep in my belly gives me pause, and I catch my breath for a moment, stilling my hand. It was faint, but it was definitely not just hungry stomach grumbling.
Callie rubs her hand across my skin again, her thumb tracing soft circles against me, and I feel another few gentle movements -- unmistakable this time.
"Holy crap, that is...weird."
"What?" the brunette looks up, concern etching itself across her brow, "are you okay?"
"I think...she's kicking me, Callie," I laugh as I feel it again, and press my own hand against my rounded midsection, "I can feel her."
My wife's eyes widen instantly, a grin spreading across her face as she looks back toward my stomach.
"Really?"
"Definitely. I felt a few flutters last week, but I couldn't really tell them apart from anything else. But she is definitely moving around in there right now."
I can't help smile again at the look of awe on her face, and I cup her cheek, drawing her up until I can capture her lips against mine, kissing her sweetly. She sighs contentedly, sliding her hand along my neck, and I lose myself in her for a few long minutes before resting my head back against the pillow.
"She must like her mommy's voice," I stroke a finger along her cheek, "just like me."
"I hope she's a lot of things like you."
The other woman shifts again so she's laying on her side facing me, her arm draping comfortably around my side.
"I keep picturing this tiny version of you -- the hair, the eyes, those dimples," she grins a little, "as if Sofia's dimple isn't enough. I'm doomed."
I laugh softly as she lets out a dramatic sigh.
"Well, the dimples I can't say -- but she's not going to be a blonde, I'm afraid. That's pretty certain."
"Hey, you don't know. My cousin Mariana was half and half, and she ended up with hair almost as light as yours. And those Robbins genes are strong -- you and Tim both look exactly like your mom."
"Okay, well I suppose you never know."
"I really hope she has your eyes though, that's what I'm holding out for."
"She needs a name," I grin, "we really should work on that soon."
"Well, you don't like Sparkles so...Glitter?"
"Callie, our child is not a character from the Hunger Games."
"That was Glimmer. Shame on you, you're a kid doctor. You should know that."
She rubs my lower back, her palm massaging slow circles over it, and I consider the names that have been rolling around in my head the last week. We've gone through so many and still just haven't found the right one, but yesterday I thought of something that I actually really like.
"What about Audrey?" I look at her suddenly, "Audrey Rosa."
The brunette glances up at me, pausing to consider for a moment, and her face takes on a thoughtful expression.
"Audrey," she tests it out, letting the name slip slowly from her lips, "Audrey Torres. I...actually really like that. It's a beautiful name, but it sounds kind of badass too."
"It's a little bit different -- I feel like you don't hear it very often. But it's still a classic."
Callie hums softly, smoothing her hand up and down my side as she tests the name out a few more times. The more I hear it spoken out loud, the more I'm liking the sound of it on her lips. She's right; it sounds feminine, but also strong -- and it doesn't easily have a nickname, which is something I also like. And it just kind of fits with our family; Sofia and Audrey, Audrey and Sofia. I can picture introducing my children that way.
"I kind of love it actually," I rub the front of my stomach, and feel a faint movement in response, "definite front-runner?"
"No, I think it's perfect. I think that's her name."
Silence falls over us and we rest comfortably for a few moments, limbs just tangled lazily together, and the faint sound of cartoons from the living room floats down the hall. Mornings like this are my favourite. I know in a little bit we'll get up and get some breakfast, and go curl up on the couch with Sofia, snuggling into a warm, cozy pile. Neither of us are on-call today, so we have nothing but time to relax together.
"Do you want to give her Robbin as a middle name too?" Callie speaks again, contemplative, "I mean...Sofia got all of our names, and it wouldn't be that weird if they shared it, would it?"
"I don't think it would be weird, no, but I also don't need them to -- I wouldn't want Sofia to think she has to share her name on top of everything else." I pause slightly, smiling at her, "Besides, don't forget that I'm a Torres now. So Audrey will have my name regardless."
The brunette grins then, leaning in to press a light kiss to my lips.
"Mm, you are. Have I ever mentioned how much I love that? It's my possessive caveman streak."
"You do like hammering things and breaking bones."
I can't help but laugh, although I'll willingly admit I kind of love her possessive streak -- mostly because I have one too.
"Can't start a fire to save my life, though."
"MOMMYYYY."
I grin teasingly at my wife, rolling onto my back and arching into a stretch.
"Looks like that's your cue. Will you make me hot chocolate?"
I watch as she pushes herself up to sitting, mimicking me and raising her arms into a lengthy stretch.
"Mm, of course. And French toast?"
She climbs up and grabs the Hopkins zip-up hoodie that I'd abandoned on the chair last night, slipping it on over her pajamas. I close my eyes for just a moment longer, relishing the warmth of the bed before I get up to join her, and I hear Sofia calling again, a little more insistently this time. A warm pair of lips presses against my forehead and then I hear the soft sound of bare feet against the hardwood as my wife disappears out of the room.
"Sounds amazing."
*
Callie
"Momma, es detrás de la escuela! Se esconde!" (Momma, he's behind the school! He's hiding!)
"¿Es él?" Arizona peers at the screen and plays along, "¿Estas seguro?" (Is he? Are you sure?)
Sofia giggles, pointing at the television where one of her favourites, Dora the Explorer, is playing.
"I see his botas rojas !" (I see his red boots!)
I grin at the little girl's excitement as she deduces the puzzle on the show, and at the seamless way she shifts into her second language; she's almost as fluent in Spanish already as she is in English, and it still floors me sometimes how smart she is. We're both really happy that she's picked it up so well, considering she doesn't hear it every day, and I absolutely adore that it's as important to my wife as it is to me.
Arizona did speak a little Spanish when we met -- she'd taken it throughout high school -- but she was rusty at best and hadn't really used it in years. When she laid claim to being Sofia's mother though she'd almost immediately enrolled in language courses at North Seattle College, attending four semesters' worth of night classes before our daughter learned to talk. Not an easy feat on top of her workload, teaching, and dealing with a pregnant girlfriend at home.
And it's not something I asked her to do, either. I hadn't doubted her commitment to raising a child with me, but that had been a defining moment all the same -- the moment I knew she was in a hundred and fifty percent.
Sofia scoots down off my lap and deposits herself on the floor in front of the coffee table, pulling over her crayons and colouring books while she sings along with the show, and I take the opportunity to shift closer to Arizona on the couch. I rest my head on her shoulder with a small yawn and the blonde wraps her arm around me, her fingers skimming absently through the ends of my ponytail.
"Do you want to do something today, or just hang out around here?"
"Let's just do nothing," I reply, inhaling the faint scent of her shampoo that's lingering from yesterday, "I feel like it's been a long week."
"It has been, especially for you. A lazy day sounds good to me."
"Maybe we can play outside later, bake some c-o-o-k-i-e-s or something. And tonight," I glance up at her and grin, "I have four episodes of the Great British Bake-Off on the DVR for us."
I feel her soft laugh reverberate against me, and I can tell there's a smile on her face without having to see it.
"Now that sounds like a hot date to me. I knew I married you for a reason."
My phone starts ringing after a second, and I let out a low groan of discontent as I sit up and reach for it amid the crayons on the table. This better not be someone from the hospital, because I do not feel like dealing with anything work related today. A quick glance at the screen though tells me that it's actually my sister -- a pleasant surprise.
"Hey, it's Aria."
I smile, getting up so I won't disturb Dora, and meander out toward the kitchen as I hit the button to answer the call.
"Hey, Aria! Long time no talk. I mean, outside of emails anyway."
"Hi Callie," the familiar voice sounds in my ear, "yeah, it's been awhile I know -- I've been doing a lot of travelling for work. Things have been kind of nuts. How are you, though? And Arizona and Sofia?"
"Good -- things have been busy here too, as always. Arizona's doing great though. We just found out we're having another girl."
Just saying it out loud brings a huge smile to my face -- I can't help it. I want to tell everyone.
"Really? Oh wow, Cal -- that's great. God, I feel like I'm still getting used to the idea that you have a kid at all, and now you're going to have two."
"I mean, it's been almost five years, Aria. It's not exactly new."
"I know, but..." she trails off a little, clearing her throat, "well, anyways, that's really great. I can't wait to meet her. Listen though, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."
"What is it? And when are you finally going to come visit, by the way?"
"Callie -- I just wanted to talk to you myself, before you talked to dad. Or someone else."
Her tone has changed, taking on a slightly more serious -- and almost resigned -- note, and I frown slightly as I drop into a seat at the kitchen table.
"What's going on? Is someone sick...? I talked to dad just last week and he didn't say anything--"
"They're getting divorced."
The words hang in the air, complete shock hitting me as I process what my sister has just said.
"They...what?"
"They're getting a divorce. Dad told me the other day."
Aria sounds surprisingly nonchalant about what she's telling me, but I'm just completely taken by surprise. My parents? Getting a divorce? My dad had flown to Seattle and practically begged me to give Arizona another chance the first time we separated, spouting all his morals about commitment and "relationships are hard work". Not to mention that they're both staunchly Catholic and don't even believe in divorce in the first place.
"I can't even process this. Our parents? Our Catholic, moral-to-a-fault parents are splitting up after nearly fifty years? What the hell happened? They can't be serious. It must have been something freaking earth-shattering that they're even talking about that--"
"Callie..."
She cuts me off mid-sentence, but she sounds almost hesitant, pausing for a moment before she continues her thought.
"He's tired of the way she's treated you. She continues to refuse to even acknowledge you and Arizona, and Sofia -- she gets pissy if dad and I even talk about you guys -- and he said enough was finally enough."
Her reply leaves me speechless, and I stare at the wall across from the table, the realization of what she's saying slamming into me.
"That's why I wanted to talk to you first. I know you're going to blame yourself -- at least partially -- and you need to know that this is not your fault. Do you hear me? Dad came to this decision on his own, and he told me it had been a long time coming. They've been fighting for years -- you just don't see it cause you're not down here."
"They've been fighting over...me, though," I finally find some words, although I'm unsure what I'm even feeling right now, "It's kind of...drastic, isn't it? They've been together for so long...they always loved each other. She doesn't have to be involved with me, I've accepted that."
"They love each other, but he loves you more. He told me over lunch the other day...and he honestly seemed confident about it, although kind of resigned. He basically told me that he was sorry they were splitting up, but that he was tired of not being in your life as much as he wants to be. I mean, you know how he feels about Sofia -- and now that you're going to have another baby? I think it kills him that he hardly ever sees you guys. When you came to visit after Christmas he was so happy, but then he felt really guilty about the whole thing that happened with mom. I think he just kind of realized...he wasn't truly supporting you by letting her continue to act that way. And he's right. I mean, I'm kind of guilty of the same thing."
I honestly don't know how I feel right now. My parents are splitting up -- my parents who have been together their entire lives. Even though my mother no longer talks to me, it's kind of jarring.
And...it's because of me. And I'm -- I wipe hastily at the corners of my eyes where tears are threatening to fall -- part of me is almost happy. My dad is truly standing up for me, even against the woman he loves. I'm not sure how to process that after all these years.
"Callie--" Aria speaks again, softly, "I'm upset too, but it is true. And I talked to mom after he told me, and tried to reason with her -- but she just won't see things like a normal person. This isn't just on dad. She's choosing her God over her daughter -- and over her husband. That part's on her."
"Why hasn't dad called me?"
"He's probably worried that you're going to blame yourself, too. You always try to shoulder all the guilt, Callie, you even did when we were kids."
"I just..." I wipe at my eyes again, shaking my head a little in disbelief, "I mean it's just hard to imagine. What's going to happen to the house and everything?"
She lets out a sigh, and I feel bad that a lot of the burden throughout all this has fallen on her, simply because she lives in Miami near them. Have they really been fighting for years about me?
"I don't know. I don't think they've started figuring that much out yet. I imagine he'd give the house to mom though, if she wanted to stay. It'd probably be a lot less of a fight for him to move."
"This is insane. He's seventy-four! Seventy-four-year-olds don't get divorced!"
"They do if there's a good reason."
"I don't know if this is a good reason. He's in my life, Aria -- he comes to visit, we came down at Christmas. And now you're back in my life too so there's really no point--"
"Hermanita," my sister interrupts me again, "you are a good reason. Not having to schedule your visits when she's out of town and not having to tell her he's going on business trips when he's really going to Seattle...yeah, those sound like pretty decent reasons to me. This didn't happen overnight, trust me. He just finally had the balls to really stand up for you. I mean...we both should have years ago, but..."
I feel a presence behind me and I glance back over my shoulder, seeing Arizona quietly standing at the entrance to the kitchen. A concerned look flits across her eyes, and I try to give her a reassuring smile.
"Should I call him?"
Aria is quiet for a moment, as if considering her answer, and my wife's hands slide over my shoulders, her thumbs softly caressing the sides of my neck.
"I think maybe just wait for him to tell you. He will. I just wanted you to have a heads up, you know? I mean we're not kids anymore, but this still isn't easy for anyone."
I nod to myself, listening to her words. And then I sigh, almost hesitating before I ask.
"Do you blame me for causing this? Even a little?"
Her reply is immediate, and it's firm.
"No. I spent enough time blaming you -- letting our mother tell me that I should -- for just being yourself. I'm with dad on this one."
I feel the tension leave my shoulders, and Arizona drapes her arms around my neck, leaning close.
"You should come visit, Aria. It'd be nice."
The older woman chuckles softly on the other end of the phone, my abrupt change of topic bringing a lighter tone to the conversation when she speaks again.
"It would be. Long overdue, huh? Actually...I'll be in Vancouver next month on company business, and I was thinking I could stop in Seattle for a bit on the way home. I haven't taken days off in a long time."
"Please do," I smile now, "we'd love that. Sofia would love to see you again. Just...give me a call, okay? Let me know when, and I'll get a day or two off."
"I will. I should go, but tell her I say hi; Arizona too. And try not to stress too much, okay?"
I snort a little, holding back a laugh.
"Yeah, I'll try."
"Talk to you soon."
The call ends with a click and I shake my head a little, setting my phone down on the table. This is a lot to take in, and it's completely out of the blue. But somehow, I still can't shake the feeling that I'm kind of...happy. Or relieved?
Arizona drops a kiss on my head and I suddenly remember that she's right behind me, the warmth of her hands sliding across my collarbone as she leans up.
"Hey...is everything alright?"
Her tone is soft and laced with concern, and for the millionth time I'm grateful that she can always sense how I feel.
"My parents are apparently getting divorced."
Blue eyes blink in disbelief, and she pulls out the chair next to me at the table, sliding into it to face me.
"What?"
"Yeah. Aria says dad...he's tired of the way my mom has treated me -- us. He's doing it for me, Arizona."
Her hand slides over mine, and I turn my palm up so I can link fingers with her.
"If he's decided to leave your mom over that, he's doing it for him, Calliope. Because he loves you."
"But it just seems...god, they've been married for forty-eight years. Aria says they've been fighting over this the last couple years, but it all started with me."
The blonde pauses for a moment, her eyes truly studying me as they trail over my face, and then she speaks quietly.
"If I hurt Sofia like your mother has hurt you -- if I emotionally abused her, or if I endangered her well-being on purpose...can you honestly say you'd still want to be with me, Callie?"
When she speaks, my eyes immediately find hers, and I can see the genuine honesty in her question. I frown a little, weighing the seriousness of her words and the tone in which she delivered them.
"Because I wouldn't. I want to be with you until the moment I die, but no matter how much I'm in love with you...she's my daughter. My baby. And I don't care if it's you or anyone else, I couldn't be around someone who would purposefully continue hurting her."
There's a fierceness to her eyes, a protectiveness that emanates from her entire being, and...she's right. Because that's what being a mother is; what being a parent is. Love for your children should be unconditional, above all else.
"I just..." I sigh heavily with the realization, looking down at our joined hands, "I wish it hadn't come to this, you know?"
"I know," she leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek, "I wish it hadn't too. I'm...as shocked as you are, honestly. But maybe this is what your dad needs."
"I hope if they go through with it, he won't regret it."
A small smile graces her features, and she cups my jaw, letting her thumb slide softly over my skin.
"I don't think he'll regret getting to fully be in his daughter's life, finally."
"Momma! Where'd everybody go?"
I can't help but laugh softly when I hear our daughter calling from the living room, and I look over to see Arizona grinning at me. It's barely eleven o'clock in the morning, and we still have an entire day ahead of us. Nothing can put a damper on that.
"I think you're right. And I think it's time to make some cookies."
*