Challenge 10 - Big Bang!!!
My entry for the Big Bang Challenge is a C/A Fic.
Title - Lost without you
Author - funkyshaz57
Pairing - Callie/Arizona
Rating - PG - Rish (for a few bad words)
Disclaimer - Just borrowing them for a while, don't own them, wish I did but the lucky Shonda Rhimes does.
Summary - Canon - A glimpse into Callie's mind after she finds out about the plane crash.
Word Count - 6613 Words (Got a little carried away, but needed I think? 6000 words to get my full 200 points!
A/N - I have to give a huge super awesome big shout out to leonhart_17 who beta'ed this story for me and helped me out with a very important part! Thank you my friend! It was greatly appreciated!!!
Lost Without You
They say life can change in an instant, turn on a dime. But they also say things like 'when hell freezes over' and honestly, can hell actually really freeze over? Or when pigs fly - Come on, let's face it, pigs are never going to fly and even if they could, would you really want to see a big, fat, pink, farm animal with wings flying in the sky? The point is they, whoever ‘they’ are, say a lot of things, and for the most part of our lives most of us take no notice. Why would we? You don’t expect the unexpected to happen to you. You know it’s a possibility, but you don’t walk around day in, day out thinking the worst. You spend each day living your life, going to work, running errands, picking up your daughter from day-care or making love to your wife. You don’t dwell on the fact that the inevitable might happen because if you lived your life like that you would never get anywhere. So when you kiss your wife goodbye as she runs away from her problems, you expect to see her back a day later. You expect to see her face walk through the door, tired but whole, still maybe a bit angry but happy to see you. You don’t expect her to not come home, you don’t expect to get a call at midnight telling you your worst nightmare has just come true.
You don’t expect your whole life to change in an instant, to turn on a dime. After all, you never expected the unexpected, you never planned for the inevitable and now it's happened and your world has just been turned upside down.
You know you are about to undertake the biggest challenge of your life and you have no plan.
You are lost.
You are terrified.
You are fucked.
***********************
You can count on one hand the amount of times in your life that your hands have shaken like they are right now. You are not someone who gets nervous easily. You know you are a confident person, bordering on cocky at times, but it’s what makes you who you are. Your first date with Arizona, your first time making love to Arizona, when she left you in that God forsaken airport, when you asked her if she was all in, and finally when you walked down the aisle, watching her and hoping like hell you didn’t trip. Those are the only times you can ever remember being as nervous as you are now. You take a deep breath and hit the call button as your stomach swims with nerves. Not only has your life changed in a matter of minutes, but you are about to change someone else’s life. You can barely comprehend what has happened since you got that frantic call from Owen Hunt in the middle of the night. The events after that are a blur, even now, getting a minute to yourself, you are finding it hard to piece together what happened after that phone call. You’re used to changing people’s lives for the better. You are used to making someone walk again and watching them smile like there is no tomorrow. You are used to helping someone live their dream longer and watching them look at you like you are a God. Of course, there are times when you can’t make someone walk again, when you can’t give someone their dream and it always hits you hard. But this…..this is different. This is worse than looking a man in the eye and telling him that you screwed up and his wife ended up having heart surgery when she was supposed to be going home. This is worse than having to face your ex-husbands mother and decide about organs. As the ringing stops and someone picks up you gather yourself, ready to hear the anguish you know is about to follow.
“Hello?”
“Hi Daniel.” You pause for a breath because you are not sure you can do this. You can break bad news to patients and you can stand stoic when you tell families that you failed, but telling your father-in-law that his only living child may be dead is something that rips you from the inside out.
“Callie, dear. What’s going on? Is everything alright with Sofia?” he asks and you can hear a hint of panic in his voice already.
Gathering yourself and willing your hands to stop shaking, you take a deep breath and rip off the band aid. They say it hurts less when you do it that way but as you slowly rip his world apart with your words, and hear the pained cries of your mother-in-law in the background, and the moan of despair of a man who is as tough as nails, you realize that ‘they’ don’t know what the fuck they are talking about.
*************************
A lot of people who have near death experiences say that their life flashed before their eyes. When I was on the brink of death last year I finally knew what all those people meant. I remember everything flashing before me, like a movie on fast forward. Bits and pieces of my childhood, my teenage years, my adulthood. It was a mirage of black and white pictures, a photo album of my life flickering on and off. Now, as I stand on the roof of the hospital, not near death but feeling its presence, my life doesn’t so much flash before my eyes, but the future that I will miss out on instead. I try to block them out and focus on the now, but images of Arizona smiling as Sofia takes her first step, or as Arizona beams her super magic smile as Sofia starts her first day of school, or images of Arizona holding our son, Arizona making love to me, Arizona sitting beside me with strands of gray in her blonde hair as we watch our grandchild run around before us.
It’s all I see. Arizona, Arizona, Arizona.
“Callie! Callie?! Dr Torres can you hear me? Answer me, God damn it!” I feel someone shaking my shoulders. I feel someone’s fingers on my face and all I can think is that they aren’t as soft as hers. I hear someone’s voice in my ear but all I know is it’s not her voice.
“Come on, Torres, that’s it, open your eyes. Come on now.” Bailey, it sounds like Bailey. I open my eyes and look up into concerned brown eyes and for the first time since Owen told me what happened, I cry. I cry because I want nothing more than to be looking into her deep blue eyes. I cry and I sob and I wail because she’s not here and I’m lost. I’m terrified and if she were here she’d know what to do but she’s not here, because her fucking plane crashed in the middle of nowhere. The unexpected happened and now she’s not here to help me find myself again.
“What happened?” I'm hiccuping between bouts of crying.
“You fainted. You okay? I mean, I know you are not okay, but are you okay?” Bailey asks.
“No, I’m not okay. My wife could be dead. My best friend could be dead. My friends could be dead. In what world could I possibly be okay?!” I snap. I know, and Bailey knows, that she isn’t the real target of my anger, but for now she will do. My real target for anger is the world, is God, is whoever out there that decided they would bestow this tragedy upon me.
“You can’t think like that, Torres. You’ve got to stay positive,” she says sternly as she pulls me to my feet. I yank my hand away from hers, not wanting the physical touch of someone else when all I am craving is the touch of my wife, Arizona's touch. To Bailey's credit she doesn’t flinch or scowl but looks at me sympathetically, understandingly, and although it’s meant to be comforting it just irks me. I want to scream and yell and lash out at the world. I want to cry and beg someone to tell me why this is happening.
“What’s their ETA?” I ask, my voice void of any emotion.
She looks at me like she wants to say something but the coldness in my eyes stops her and she shrinks back, plastering on her professional mask. It’s a mask we all have, one that is supposed to hide how we really feel, one that is supposed to show the world that we know how to be calm and collected, to not feel when we want to cry, to not feel when we want to break down.
“ETA, 10 minutes,” she answers coolly.
I nod my head in recognition but say nothing else. I stay separated from Bailey and the others. April, Jackson, Owen, Bailey, Webber, they all stand together, gowns fluttering with the breeze, eyes facing skyward. I should join them, but I can’t. I can’t help but think that they have no idea what I’m going through. Even though Owen has Cristina on that helicopter, I feel like it pales in comparison to how I feel. My whole life is on that helicopter. A life that I never imagined having but one that I wouldn’t change for the world. My future, my happiness, my, as dramatic as it sounds, but my reason for living is on that helicopter. How could anyone possibly know how I’m feeling right now? I watch as Owen and Bailey talk, as April and Jackson whisper to one another. These people are like family to me, I work with them on a daily basis, go out for a drink with them on weekends, trust them to look after my child when I’m running late, these are people who I know, I live and breathe beside these people on a daily basis yet right now I feel like I don’t know them, right now I feel so disconnected from everybody that I feel like I’m not me. The door to the roof opens loudly, the sound of it hitting against steel making us all jump. I turn around and I see Alex standing there, his eyes wide, his face panicked and his whole body shaking. He looks on the outside how I feel on the inside, and instead of feeling a sense of comradeship that someone feels the same as me, all I feel is pure rage. When he approaches me I feel my blood boil and an anger that I haven’t felt in a long time bubble up. He’s within a few steps of me now and my body is tense and taut as if I’m preparing for battle.
“Torres, I….” But that is as far as I let him get before my hand strikes his face with a force that makes him stumble backwards.
I hear the gasps behind me and I see Bailey and Owen step forward slightly as if waiting for my next move but Alex holds his hand up towards them, stopping them from interfering.
“I don’t want to hear it. You don’t speak to me, ever!” I say, surprising myself with the venom I can hear lacing my words as I spit them out at him.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! It should have been me. I never…I… Robbins…I care about her…If I had known…I…I’m so sorry, Torres,” he says to me and I can hear the emotion in his voice. I can hear his silent request for forgiveness but I don’t give it to him. When his voice cracks and tears leak from his normally hard eyes I don’t waver because I need someone to blame. I need someone to take this anger out on, and Alex is the most easiest target. Rationally I know this isn’t his fault, rationally I know this is no-ones fault but the no so rational part of my brain wants to blame Alex because he chose to go to Hopkins, he chose to leave Arizona and because of that she got on the plane.
“She trusted you, she believed in you and you turned your back on her. She could be dead, you don’t get to be sorry! Arizona was right, you are a miserable, miserable bastard!” I lash out at him. To his credit he takes it, he stands there as I yell at him, as I scream things at him that I know he doesn’t deserve, and like the man Arizona always believed him to be, he takes it without so much as flinching. He lets me take my worry and fear out on him. Then when I’m finished, when I’m gasping for air and my heart is racing, he pulls me into his arms and holds me tight and even as I beat and push against his chest he still holds me, whispering apologies and promising me everything will be alright. I allow myself this moment of comfort, a few seconds to fall apart before I put that mask back on. Alex tugs on my hand and pulls me over to the others. I want to protest, to tell him no, but I find once I’m beside them I feel a small sense of hope. Standing next to these people who save lives on a regular basis, I feel that maybe being with them is better than being alone.
Then they’re here. I can see the helicopter in the distance as it makes its way towards the hospital. My heart races as my eyes zero in on the small aircraft that will show me the fate of my wife in only a few seconds. The blades are loud but the sound of my heart beating and my pulse racing seems to drown out the sound of anything else. I see the others moving, running towards the helicopter while I stand there frozen. I will myself to move but my body doesn’t listen to my mind. I see the doors open and I hear words being screamed but it’s all just a mix of sounds, nothing clear.
Then I see her, and it takes all my strength to not collapse to the ground. They start wheeling the gurney towards me and I struggle between wanting to run away and wanting to run towards her. Because looking at my wife laying deathly still, white as a ghost, her beautiful face covered with cuts and bruises, dark red blood staining every part of her body, is the most horrifying thing I have ever seen. I want to run away and hide, I want to pretend this isn’t real but more than that I want to take her hand, urge her to open her eyes so she knows I’m here, so she knows she isn’t alone, so she knows that whatever she can’t do that I’ll do it for her.
The gurney rushes past me, no one sparing me a look as I stand there immobilized. It’s not until I hear Alex call my name that I snap out of it. I turn to look at him as he holds the door open for me, waiting for me to follow. He has a steely look in his eyes, one I can’t decipher, and for all my yelling and screaming at him, in this moment he is the only one that has an inkling of how I feel. Alex Karev, the resident bad boy of Seattle Grace, the guy who spread syphilis around the hospital like it was candy, my wife’s boy understands what I’m going through and for that I couldn’t be more grateful. I command myself to walk, and slowly but surely my feet start moving.
Soon I’m jogging, then I’m running. Down the stairs, through the double doors, across the lobby, and into the ER. Doctors and nurses crowd around Arizona, shouting out instructions and grabbing syringes and monitors. I push my way forward past Owen who is setting up a central line, past Jackson who is looking at her face, past April who is assessing her leg. I refuse to look past her face, not knowing if I can handle what is below. I focus on her face, dried blood smeared on her lips and a gash across her forehead, and a sob breaks free. I shakily take her hand and squeeze it tight, wishing and praying to feel her respond even though I know she can’t.
“Her leg is bad, it looks like we might have to amputate.” I hear a voice beside me say.
“No!” I say quietly but no one hears me. They keep on talking about her like I’m not even there, like I can’t hear how they want to maim my wife.
“No…No…NO!” I start off quietly then ending up roaring. The room goes quiet except for the steady beep of the monitor beside me reassuring me that she’s still here, she hasn’t gone anywhere yet.
“Torres, it’s bad, really bad. I don’t think that we can…” Hunt starts to say but I won’t hear of it.
Holding my free hand up, I don’t look at anyone but I speak as clearly and concisely as I can. “You are not taking her leg. You will set up an OR. Bailey will deal with the Pulmonary Laceration that she clearly has, and I will fix her leg,” I say, my voice firm, leaving no room for argument.
“Callie, you can’t operate on Arizona. You know that,” Owen’s voice is firm yet soft and oozes sympathy. I know the rules but I’ll be damned if I let a lesser surgeon do a job I know I can do better, or worse, let them just go in there and take her leg. I love my wife, that goes without saying. I love her mind, body, and soul, and I would love her with no arms and no legs, but I know Arizona and I’m not sure she would recover from losing a limb. Not when I know I can save it.
“I don’t want to hear it, Owen. I’m operating. Now move!!!” I scream but no one moves an inch.
“Dr. Torres.” Oh, so he’s going down this road now, is he?
“Dr. Hunt,” I snarl back as I turn and face the Chief of Surgery. He’s looking at me with a mix of authority and sympathy. I can see that he wants to help but he’s not going to. He’s going to stick to the book and if he does then I know that Arizona will lose a leg. I force myself to calm down, to let go of the anger, because shouting won’t help my case right now.
“Dr. Torres… Callie...” He softens, all eyes are on the both of us with the beating of the monitor beside me, reminding me why I’m doing this, why I’m fighting to get him to let me operate. “I understand you’re scared, and we all know you are the best, but it is against hospital policy. If someone finds out, if something goes wrong…” He trails off, pleading with me silently. Any other time I’d back down and accept defeat but this isn’t just some Jane Doe on the table, this is my wife, and right now she needs me.
“I get it, Owen, I really do but I’m the best there is,” I start off calmly. “I am excellent! I’m a superstar, a superstar with a scalpel. I build arms out of nothing and legs, like God, and right now that is what my wife needs, so if you really won’t let me operate you are going to have to physically remove me yourself!” I threaten, and it is not an empty threat at all. I stand there, my chest heaving with adrenaline, waiting for him to tell me no but not a minute later he nods his head at me understandingly before turning around and barking out orders to everyone.
Not more than twenty minutes later I’m standing in the scrub room on my own. My wife, the love of my life, is laying on a table in an operating theater, one which I am about to go into and operate. The woman who stayed by me through thick and thin is relying on me to do right by her. I’m her only chance, and I’ve never in my life ever felt so terrified as I do right now. Taking a calming breath, I turn towards the doors and enter. Walking up to the tale, I move to the top. My wife’s face is draped as per procedure. I pull back the cover slightly and kiss her pale forehead, lingering for a while.
“I’ve got this, baby. I’ve got you,” I whisper before stepping back and taking my place. Looking around the theater, I see nothing but determined faces beside me, supportive faces, faces of people I would trust with my life. Looking up at the gallery, I see Alex sitting there, face anxious yet hopeful. He gives me an encouraging smile, and as the chords of AC-DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” filter through the room I know I’ve got this because this is what I was born to do, this is my arena.
***************************
Today I should have been waking up to my wife wrapped up in my arms, the lingerie I ordered from Victoria's Secret hanging from the bed posts and possibly the remnants of that chocolate body paint I purchased still sticky on Arizona’s body. Today should have been a good day, maybe not a perfect day because those so rarely happen in life but a good day nonetheless.
Instead I find myself sitting at Arizona’s bedside holding her hand and praying that she’s strong enough to find her way back to me. Hoping and wishing that her body can fight off the infection she picked up while stuck out in those woods, that her body can heal from the operation I performed. I haven’t moved an inch since she was wheeled into the room. I haven’t asked for updates on Derek, or shed a tear about Lexie, I haven’t even checked on my best friend because all my energy is on my wife. I don’t close my eyes because I don’t want to miss anything. When she wakes up I want to be the first one she sees, when she wakes up I need her to know that I kept my promise and I didn’t leave.
As the steady beep of the monitor sounds throughout the room I will myself to keep it together as thoughts of my love out in the woods terrified and hurt enter my mind. I can’t imagine how she must have felt out there, and the thought that she was suffering all those hours makes me want to empty my stomach. There’s nothing more painstakingly agonizing in this world than when my wife is hurting. She so very rarely shows weakness or vulnerability, preferring to be a good man in a storm, that at times she comes across as emotionally stunted, but the Arizona that skates around on shoes with wheels all day, the Arizona that is perky and smiling all the time, is only one side to her. I’ve seen her at her highest and I’ve seen her at her lowest and that is what I love about her. While she presents nothing but a happy and perky facade to the outside world, when it’s just her and I, she allows me to see all of her, not just the happy but everything that she is.
Seconds tick by and minutes pass and still nothing. The beeping of the monitor tells me her heart is still beating, yet the tube down her throat lets me know that while out of the woods literally, she’s still fighting to survive. It’s just a matter of waiting I tell myself. I know the odds, I know what the most likely outcome is, but it doesn’t make it any less terrifying having to sit here and watch her fight to stay alive. It makes me think back to when I was in the same position last year. Arizona was so strong when things looked bad for me, she never left my side, exhausting herself between being with me and being in the NICU for our daughter. After I woke up and started the recovery process Arizona threw herself into being the best she could be for me, but I always saw how hard it was on her, the toll the accident had taken on her. I think at times that I took it for granted how dedicated and determined she was, and now that I’m in the same position I wonder how she ever made it through those times. It’s only been a day, not even twenty-four hours since I received word that their plane went down, and I’m already about to fall apart.
The thing is, I’m lost without Arizona. I used to think that love was something that was given freely, that love was something that came along often. But it wasn’t until I met Arizona that I realized I had never truly experienced love. The way she looks at me daily, reverent and thankful, almost, that she has me. The way she touches me as we make love. When she tells me she loves me, I not only hear it but feel it in the depths of my soul. One look, one touch, one whispered word from her, and I know she loves me. It’s not something I’ll ever second guess or have to wonder about, because she shows me every day. She makes me feel wanted and safe. She makes me feel safe and cherished. She’s my other half, as cheesy as it is, and because I know how much she loves me I’ve never contemplated what it would be like to be without her. Even when we broke up over children, she was still my dream. Even when she left for Africa, she was still the only person I could see myself spending my life with. When she looked as though I ripped her world out in that elevator as I told her I was pregnant with Mark’s child, when she looked like she wished she was ten feet under, she was the only person I knew that could make it better. Even in our worst moments, she’s all I ever see. To have her laying motionless in front of me, physically hurt, knowing she’ll be emotionally scarred, it terrifies me because if I’m lost, how am I going to help her find herself again? All I want is for her to open her eyes. All I want is to hear her voice. All I want is for her to live, for me and so I tell her that as I sit vigil at her bedside, I beg her to live, I plead with her to please, live for me.
********************
It’s been six days and still no change. I’ve had the best doctors money can buy fly in and consult on her case and they all give me the same answer.
“It’s a waiting game. It’s up to her now, we’ve done everything medically possible.”
And then I say, the same way every time:
“You can’t be right, you must have missed something. If it was up to her she’d be awake now. She wouldn’t keep me waiting like this, she would want to be here with us.”
On the tenth day I bring Sofia by to say hi to her Mom, she’s been looking for her every day.
On the fifteenth day I bring photos and flowers, her perfume and her pillow.
On the twentieth day I cry because it hurts so much
On the thirtieth day they tell me maybe it's time to think about letting her go.
********************
Three months ago I was happy. I had everything I’d always wanted in life. Today I have nothing. They say life changes in an instant, it can turn on a dime and you just have to pray it goes your way. I prayed and I hoped. I wished and I begged. I cried and I screamed and I yelled and I pleaded but it didn’t go my way. They had to physically lift me from her bed because in that moment all I wanted was to be with her. It didn’t matter that where she was I couldn’t follow, all I knew was that when they flipped the switch, I died with her. That’s all it takes, an instant, a few seconds for your world to change. A short phone call, a car ride, a twenty minute plane trip, a flip of a switch. It’s a matter of seconds.
They tell me she wouldn’t want me like this. They tell me she’d want for me to move on. They tell me all sorts of things but they don’t know. They have no idea.
Today I bury my wife, my soul mate, my other half.
As the dirt slips through my fingers and I hear it hit the oak coffin, I fall to my knees. I feel hands placed on my back and words being whispered but I push them away because nothing can make this right.
"Arizona Robbins, I love you and no distance, not even the distance from heaven to earth will change that. Keep my side of the cloud warm for me, I will be there with you one day, my love." I stand abruptly, tears clouding my vision, shoulders slumped. As I hear them lower her to the ground, my heart goes with her. The rain pours from the gray sky and soaks me through to the bone but I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything. How can I when my heart was just buried beneath a pile of dirt?
**************************
Snapping awake from the dream and rushing to the bathroom of Arizona's private room to lose my lunch is the first time I've moved since what felt like the years I was in that nightmare. I don't even remember falling asleep. I am supposed to be awake, be waiting for her to come back to me, and I can't even... And it's suddenly too much, too much to bear standing. Though that might just be the fact that I haven't used my legs since they'd brought Arizona to me after the surgery. Either way, it means that I hit my knees just in time to heave into the toilet bowl. And tears, angry, scared, utterly terrified sobbing escapes with my lunch. Funny, almost, because I can't remember the last time I've eaten, the last time I was even hungry.
I try to stop when it starts to hurt but I can't do it, my chest aching from what I'm sure is a combination of the puking, the crying, and the fact that Arizona isn't awake yet. If I never see her open her eyes again, I'm not sure the hurt will ever go away, like a phantom limb. Except I've never heard of anyone living with a phantom heart.
My stomach is beyond empty by the time I get the heaving under control, one hand blindly fumbling for the flush while the other hand braces against the floor and I start the process of getting back on my feet. Because I know I need to be strong for Arizona right now, but I've never felt more weak in my entire life. But she's what matters right now, not how badly I wish I could stay on this floor and feel miserable about what's become of my life.
The water, swirling in the basin of the toilet, pouring from the faucet in the sink as I wash my hands, is all I can hear and I try and pace my breathing to the steady rhythm I can hear in the rush of droplets.
It's only when I twist the knob to close the valve that I hear anything else.
Specifically the increased pace of the monitor in the other room. I freeze thinking maybe I'm imagining it, after all I've been stuck in this room for a month solid only leaving to see my baby girl when necessary. But as I slowly approach the door that seperates me from where Arizona lays I stop in my tracks. I hear can the beeping getting faster, a lot faster than it has been in such a long time. My heart races in time with the beeping. What if I walk out there and the worst is happening? What happens if she's finally given up the fight to stay with me. I've been by her bedside since they wheeled her in from Surgery. I've stayed every single night despite the many protests of my father, the Robbin's and Mark, and the rest of the hospital staff. I've neglected Sofia even, something I thought I would never do. At first I had her come and stay with me in the room, getting Mark to bring her porta cot over but after nearly two weeks he put his foot down. I love my daughter more than anything but having my wife, my soul mate laying alone every night, lost to a land of darkness and uncertainty...well I couldn't let her be on her own. I needed her to know that I was here for her even if she doesn't conciously know.
I have a thousand what if's swirling around in my mind as I hear the still increased monitor. A lot of what if's that I don't even want to think about but the biggest what if is the one that urges me to turn the handle, the biggest what if is the one that screams at me. 'What if she's come back to me', with that thought in mind I push forward. I push the door open and close my eyes briefly before opening them. My gaze automatically finds Arizona and staring back at me, are not closed eyes but the the brightest blue you can imagine. Staring back at me is my wife, she's looking right at me and its...it's overwhelming. I've waited and I've waited, day in and day out. I've prayed and I've begged for someone to bring her back to me. I never gave up once.
Her eyes lock onto mine and I see the relief, confusion but most of all after everything that has happened I see the love in those eyes. I stand there paralyzed. Something in my brain tells me I should be moving, I should be over there covering her face with kisses and thanking her for coming back to me but something else stops me. What if this isn't real? What if my mind is playing tricks on me? Giving me what I've been so desperately craving. What if this is just another dream? If it is I'm not sure I want to wake up from it because being able to finally after all this time, after all the tears and heartache I've endured over the past month look into my wifes eyes is a dream come true so if this is just a dream I don't want to leave.
Before I can move, a nurse rushes in followed by Bailey. I notice Bailey give me a confused look as she rushes to Arizona's bedside. I stand there still in my fearful and frozen state and watch as they take the breathing tube out of Arizona's throat, I watch as she coughs and sputters and as she pushes Baileys hand out of the road as the attending offers her a glass of water. The whole time her eyes have not left mine as as she opens her mouth and whispers a husky 'Calliope' my world suddenly rights itself again. Like a jigsaw flying together, every missing piece that has been gone since that fateful night glues itself back together because Arizona is whispering for me to come closer, she's crying tears as she whispers how much she loves me. My heart swells as tears fill my eyes. No longer frozen, no longer wondering if this is a dream I take the few steps that seperates us and throw myself agaisnt my wife. Immediately arms wrap around my shoulders as I cling to her, my wife, my love who came back to me. Her whispered declarations , the stroke of her hands against my head, the feel of her lips against my cheek overwhelms me but in the best way possible. I pull back tears falling hard and fast and look into her eyes.
"I thought I had lost you" I cry.
"You could never lose me Calliope" she say's her voice weak from lack of using it..
I shake my head in frustration needing her to know exactly how lost I've been. "You've been gone for so long. I was so scared. I cried and I begged you to come back to me"
"Baby, I'm so sorry. You know I would never willingly leave you. I'm so sorry. I love you" she says her voice stronger now.
"I promised you that I would never leave you but I need you to promise me the same thing. Never leave. Promise me now Arizona" I say to her as I cup her face between my hands. I nearly cry at the warmth that settles in my fingertips. The way she nod's her head in the affirmative, the way her hands lay on top of mine.
"I promise you. I will never leave. I'm not going anywhere" she tells me.
I want to say more, I want to tell her everything. How I thought she was gone. How I've never been so scared in my life. How I never left her bedside and how i never stopped hoping but no words come out. We look into each other's eye's and everything I want to say passes between us. She smiles at me, a beautiful heart stopping smile before she leans forward and takes my lips with hers. At first I freeze because the sensation of her warm lips upon mine is something I had nearly convinced myself I wouldn't feel again but the moment her tonuge drags along my bottom lip I'm a goner. I open my mouth and let her in. Our tongues tangle, and our lips move together in a dance as old as time. I let myself get lost in her touch savoring each second of every caress and I give back just as much making sure she feels every single emotion in this kiss because from now on I'm not letting one single moment slip by where she doesn't know how much I love her because sometimes the inevitable happens, one day your plane might crash from the sky and it may all be taken away in a second or maybe your car ploughs into a truck or a madman shoots up your workplace.
They say you never know what is around the corner and just maybe in this instance they are right. Maybe they do know what they are talking about some of the time. All I know is that from now on I won't take one day for granted, one hour or one minute not even a second. From this day forward I'm going to live life to the fullest because this past month has taught me the hardest lesson of all:
Life can change in an instant, turn on a dime.
Title - Lost without you
Author - funkyshaz57
Pairing - Callie/Arizona
Rating - PG - Rish (for a few bad words)
Disclaimer - Just borrowing them for a while, don't own them, wish I did but the lucky Shonda Rhimes does.
Summary - Canon - A glimpse into Callie's mind after she finds out about the plane crash.
Word Count - 6613 Words (Got a little carried away, but needed I think? 6000 words to get my full 200 points!
A/N - I have to give a huge super awesome big shout out to leonhart_17 who beta'ed this story for me and helped me out with a very important part! Thank you my friend! It was greatly appreciated!!!
Lost Without You
They say life can change in an instant, turn on a dime. But they also say things like 'when hell freezes over' and honestly, can hell actually really freeze over? Or when pigs fly - Come on, let's face it, pigs are never going to fly and even if they could, would you really want to see a big, fat, pink, farm animal with wings flying in the sky? The point is they, whoever ‘they’ are, say a lot of things, and for the most part of our lives most of us take no notice. Why would we? You don’t expect the unexpected to happen to you. You know it’s a possibility, but you don’t walk around day in, day out thinking the worst. You spend each day living your life, going to work, running errands, picking up your daughter from day-care or making love to your wife. You don’t dwell on the fact that the inevitable might happen because if you lived your life like that you would never get anywhere. So when you kiss your wife goodbye as she runs away from her problems, you expect to see her back a day later. You expect to see her face walk through the door, tired but whole, still maybe a bit angry but happy to see you. You don’t expect her to not come home, you don’t expect to get a call at midnight telling you your worst nightmare has just come true.
You don’t expect your whole life to change in an instant, to turn on a dime. After all, you never expected the unexpected, you never planned for the inevitable and now it's happened and your world has just been turned upside down.
You know you are about to undertake the biggest challenge of your life and you have no plan.
You are lost.
You are terrified.
You are fucked.
***********************
You can count on one hand the amount of times in your life that your hands have shaken like they are right now. You are not someone who gets nervous easily. You know you are a confident person, bordering on cocky at times, but it’s what makes you who you are. Your first date with Arizona, your first time making love to Arizona, when she left you in that God forsaken airport, when you asked her if she was all in, and finally when you walked down the aisle, watching her and hoping like hell you didn’t trip. Those are the only times you can ever remember being as nervous as you are now. You take a deep breath and hit the call button as your stomach swims with nerves. Not only has your life changed in a matter of minutes, but you are about to change someone else’s life. You can barely comprehend what has happened since you got that frantic call from Owen Hunt in the middle of the night. The events after that are a blur, even now, getting a minute to yourself, you are finding it hard to piece together what happened after that phone call. You’re used to changing people’s lives for the better. You are used to making someone walk again and watching them smile like there is no tomorrow. You are used to helping someone live their dream longer and watching them look at you like you are a God. Of course, there are times when you can’t make someone walk again, when you can’t give someone their dream and it always hits you hard. But this…..this is different. This is worse than looking a man in the eye and telling him that you screwed up and his wife ended up having heart surgery when she was supposed to be going home. This is worse than having to face your ex-husbands mother and decide about organs. As the ringing stops and someone picks up you gather yourself, ready to hear the anguish you know is about to follow.
“Hello?”
“Hi Daniel.” You pause for a breath because you are not sure you can do this. You can break bad news to patients and you can stand stoic when you tell families that you failed, but telling your father-in-law that his only living child may be dead is something that rips you from the inside out.
“Callie, dear. What’s going on? Is everything alright with Sofia?” he asks and you can hear a hint of panic in his voice already.
Gathering yourself and willing your hands to stop shaking, you take a deep breath and rip off the band aid. They say it hurts less when you do it that way but as you slowly rip his world apart with your words, and hear the pained cries of your mother-in-law in the background, and the moan of despair of a man who is as tough as nails, you realize that ‘they’ don’t know what the fuck they are talking about.
*************************
A lot of people who have near death experiences say that their life flashed before their eyes. When I was on the brink of death last year I finally knew what all those people meant. I remember everything flashing before me, like a movie on fast forward. Bits and pieces of my childhood, my teenage years, my adulthood. It was a mirage of black and white pictures, a photo album of my life flickering on and off. Now, as I stand on the roof of the hospital, not near death but feeling its presence, my life doesn’t so much flash before my eyes, but the future that I will miss out on instead. I try to block them out and focus on the now, but images of Arizona smiling as Sofia takes her first step, or as Arizona beams her super magic smile as Sofia starts her first day of school, or images of Arizona holding our son, Arizona making love to me, Arizona sitting beside me with strands of gray in her blonde hair as we watch our grandchild run around before us.
It’s all I see. Arizona, Arizona, Arizona.
“Callie! Callie?! Dr Torres can you hear me? Answer me, God damn it!” I feel someone shaking my shoulders. I feel someone’s fingers on my face and all I can think is that they aren’t as soft as hers. I hear someone’s voice in my ear but all I know is it’s not her voice.
“Come on, Torres, that’s it, open your eyes. Come on now.” Bailey, it sounds like Bailey. I open my eyes and look up into concerned brown eyes and for the first time since Owen told me what happened, I cry. I cry because I want nothing more than to be looking into her deep blue eyes. I cry and I sob and I wail because she’s not here and I’m lost. I’m terrified and if she were here she’d know what to do but she’s not here, because her fucking plane crashed in the middle of nowhere. The unexpected happened and now she’s not here to help me find myself again.
“What happened?” I'm hiccuping between bouts of crying.
“You fainted. You okay? I mean, I know you are not okay, but are you okay?” Bailey asks.
“No, I’m not okay. My wife could be dead. My best friend could be dead. My friends could be dead. In what world could I possibly be okay?!” I snap. I know, and Bailey knows, that she isn’t the real target of my anger, but for now she will do. My real target for anger is the world, is God, is whoever out there that decided they would bestow this tragedy upon me.
“You can’t think like that, Torres. You’ve got to stay positive,” she says sternly as she pulls me to my feet. I yank my hand away from hers, not wanting the physical touch of someone else when all I am craving is the touch of my wife, Arizona's touch. To Bailey's credit she doesn’t flinch or scowl but looks at me sympathetically, understandingly, and although it’s meant to be comforting it just irks me. I want to scream and yell and lash out at the world. I want to cry and beg someone to tell me why this is happening.
“What’s their ETA?” I ask, my voice void of any emotion.
She looks at me like she wants to say something but the coldness in my eyes stops her and she shrinks back, plastering on her professional mask. It’s a mask we all have, one that is supposed to hide how we really feel, one that is supposed to show the world that we know how to be calm and collected, to not feel when we want to cry, to not feel when we want to break down.
“ETA, 10 minutes,” she answers coolly.
I nod my head in recognition but say nothing else. I stay separated from Bailey and the others. April, Jackson, Owen, Bailey, Webber, they all stand together, gowns fluttering with the breeze, eyes facing skyward. I should join them, but I can’t. I can’t help but think that they have no idea what I’m going through. Even though Owen has Cristina on that helicopter, I feel like it pales in comparison to how I feel. My whole life is on that helicopter. A life that I never imagined having but one that I wouldn’t change for the world. My future, my happiness, my, as dramatic as it sounds, but my reason for living is on that helicopter. How could anyone possibly know how I’m feeling right now? I watch as Owen and Bailey talk, as April and Jackson whisper to one another. These people are like family to me, I work with them on a daily basis, go out for a drink with them on weekends, trust them to look after my child when I’m running late, these are people who I know, I live and breathe beside these people on a daily basis yet right now I feel like I don’t know them, right now I feel so disconnected from everybody that I feel like I’m not me. The door to the roof opens loudly, the sound of it hitting against steel making us all jump. I turn around and I see Alex standing there, his eyes wide, his face panicked and his whole body shaking. He looks on the outside how I feel on the inside, and instead of feeling a sense of comradeship that someone feels the same as me, all I feel is pure rage. When he approaches me I feel my blood boil and an anger that I haven’t felt in a long time bubble up. He’s within a few steps of me now and my body is tense and taut as if I’m preparing for battle.
“Torres, I….” But that is as far as I let him get before my hand strikes his face with a force that makes him stumble backwards.
I hear the gasps behind me and I see Bailey and Owen step forward slightly as if waiting for my next move but Alex holds his hand up towards them, stopping them from interfering.
“I don’t want to hear it. You don’t speak to me, ever!” I say, surprising myself with the venom I can hear lacing my words as I spit them out at him.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! It should have been me. I never…I… Robbins…I care about her…If I had known…I…I’m so sorry, Torres,” he says to me and I can hear the emotion in his voice. I can hear his silent request for forgiveness but I don’t give it to him. When his voice cracks and tears leak from his normally hard eyes I don’t waver because I need someone to blame. I need someone to take this anger out on, and Alex is the most easiest target. Rationally I know this isn’t his fault, rationally I know this is no-ones fault but the no so rational part of my brain wants to blame Alex because he chose to go to Hopkins, he chose to leave Arizona and because of that she got on the plane.
“She trusted you, she believed in you and you turned your back on her. She could be dead, you don’t get to be sorry! Arizona was right, you are a miserable, miserable bastard!” I lash out at him. To his credit he takes it, he stands there as I yell at him, as I scream things at him that I know he doesn’t deserve, and like the man Arizona always believed him to be, he takes it without so much as flinching. He lets me take my worry and fear out on him. Then when I’m finished, when I’m gasping for air and my heart is racing, he pulls me into his arms and holds me tight and even as I beat and push against his chest he still holds me, whispering apologies and promising me everything will be alright. I allow myself this moment of comfort, a few seconds to fall apart before I put that mask back on. Alex tugs on my hand and pulls me over to the others. I want to protest, to tell him no, but I find once I’m beside them I feel a small sense of hope. Standing next to these people who save lives on a regular basis, I feel that maybe being with them is better than being alone.
Then they’re here. I can see the helicopter in the distance as it makes its way towards the hospital. My heart races as my eyes zero in on the small aircraft that will show me the fate of my wife in only a few seconds. The blades are loud but the sound of my heart beating and my pulse racing seems to drown out the sound of anything else. I see the others moving, running towards the helicopter while I stand there frozen. I will myself to move but my body doesn’t listen to my mind. I see the doors open and I hear words being screamed but it’s all just a mix of sounds, nothing clear.
Then I see her, and it takes all my strength to not collapse to the ground. They start wheeling the gurney towards me and I struggle between wanting to run away and wanting to run towards her. Because looking at my wife laying deathly still, white as a ghost, her beautiful face covered with cuts and bruises, dark red blood staining every part of her body, is the most horrifying thing I have ever seen. I want to run away and hide, I want to pretend this isn’t real but more than that I want to take her hand, urge her to open her eyes so she knows I’m here, so she knows she isn’t alone, so she knows that whatever she can’t do that I’ll do it for her.
The gurney rushes past me, no one sparing me a look as I stand there immobilized. It’s not until I hear Alex call my name that I snap out of it. I turn to look at him as he holds the door open for me, waiting for me to follow. He has a steely look in his eyes, one I can’t decipher, and for all my yelling and screaming at him, in this moment he is the only one that has an inkling of how I feel. Alex Karev, the resident bad boy of Seattle Grace, the guy who spread syphilis around the hospital like it was candy, my wife’s boy understands what I’m going through and for that I couldn’t be more grateful. I command myself to walk, and slowly but surely my feet start moving.
Soon I’m jogging, then I’m running. Down the stairs, through the double doors, across the lobby, and into the ER. Doctors and nurses crowd around Arizona, shouting out instructions and grabbing syringes and monitors. I push my way forward past Owen who is setting up a central line, past Jackson who is looking at her face, past April who is assessing her leg. I refuse to look past her face, not knowing if I can handle what is below. I focus on her face, dried blood smeared on her lips and a gash across her forehead, and a sob breaks free. I shakily take her hand and squeeze it tight, wishing and praying to feel her respond even though I know she can’t.
“Her leg is bad, it looks like we might have to amputate.” I hear a voice beside me say.
“No!” I say quietly but no one hears me. They keep on talking about her like I’m not even there, like I can’t hear how they want to maim my wife.
“No…No…NO!” I start off quietly then ending up roaring. The room goes quiet except for the steady beep of the monitor beside me reassuring me that she’s still here, she hasn’t gone anywhere yet.
“Torres, it’s bad, really bad. I don’t think that we can…” Hunt starts to say but I won’t hear of it.
Holding my free hand up, I don’t look at anyone but I speak as clearly and concisely as I can. “You are not taking her leg. You will set up an OR. Bailey will deal with the Pulmonary Laceration that she clearly has, and I will fix her leg,” I say, my voice firm, leaving no room for argument.
“Callie, you can’t operate on Arizona. You know that,” Owen’s voice is firm yet soft and oozes sympathy. I know the rules but I’ll be damned if I let a lesser surgeon do a job I know I can do better, or worse, let them just go in there and take her leg. I love my wife, that goes without saying. I love her mind, body, and soul, and I would love her with no arms and no legs, but I know Arizona and I’m not sure she would recover from losing a limb. Not when I know I can save it.
“I don’t want to hear it, Owen. I’m operating. Now move!!!” I scream but no one moves an inch.
“Dr. Torres.” Oh, so he’s going down this road now, is he?
“Dr. Hunt,” I snarl back as I turn and face the Chief of Surgery. He’s looking at me with a mix of authority and sympathy. I can see that he wants to help but he’s not going to. He’s going to stick to the book and if he does then I know that Arizona will lose a leg. I force myself to calm down, to let go of the anger, because shouting won’t help my case right now.
“Dr. Torres… Callie...” He softens, all eyes are on the both of us with the beating of the monitor beside me, reminding me why I’m doing this, why I’m fighting to get him to let me operate. “I understand you’re scared, and we all know you are the best, but it is against hospital policy. If someone finds out, if something goes wrong…” He trails off, pleading with me silently. Any other time I’d back down and accept defeat but this isn’t just some Jane Doe on the table, this is my wife, and right now she needs me.
“I get it, Owen, I really do but I’m the best there is,” I start off calmly. “I am excellent! I’m a superstar, a superstar with a scalpel. I build arms out of nothing and legs, like God, and right now that is what my wife needs, so if you really won’t let me operate you are going to have to physically remove me yourself!” I threaten, and it is not an empty threat at all. I stand there, my chest heaving with adrenaline, waiting for him to tell me no but not a minute later he nods his head at me understandingly before turning around and barking out orders to everyone.
Not more than twenty minutes later I’m standing in the scrub room on my own. My wife, the love of my life, is laying on a table in an operating theater, one which I am about to go into and operate. The woman who stayed by me through thick and thin is relying on me to do right by her. I’m her only chance, and I’ve never in my life ever felt so terrified as I do right now. Taking a calming breath, I turn towards the doors and enter. Walking up to the tale, I move to the top. My wife’s face is draped as per procedure. I pull back the cover slightly and kiss her pale forehead, lingering for a while.
“I’ve got this, baby. I’ve got you,” I whisper before stepping back and taking my place. Looking around the theater, I see nothing but determined faces beside me, supportive faces, faces of people I would trust with my life. Looking up at the gallery, I see Alex sitting there, face anxious yet hopeful. He gives me an encouraging smile, and as the chords of AC-DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” filter through the room I know I’ve got this because this is what I was born to do, this is my arena.
***************************
Today I should have been waking up to my wife wrapped up in my arms, the lingerie I ordered from Victoria's Secret hanging from the bed posts and possibly the remnants of that chocolate body paint I purchased still sticky on Arizona’s body. Today should have been a good day, maybe not a perfect day because those so rarely happen in life but a good day nonetheless.
Instead I find myself sitting at Arizona’s bedside holding her hand and praying that she’s strong enough to find her way back to me. Hoping and wishing that her body can fight off the infection she picked up while stuck out in those woods, that her body can heal from the operation I performed. I haven’t moved an inch since she was wheeled into the room. I haven’t asked for updates on Derek, or shed a tear about Lexie, I haven’t even checked on my best friend because all my energy is on my wife. I don’t close my eyes because I don’t want to miss anything. When she wakes up I want to be the first one she sees, when she wakes up I need her to know that I kept my promise and I didn’t leave.
As the steady beep of the monitor sounds throughout the room I will myself to keep it together as thoughts of my love out in the woods terrified and hurt enter my mind. I can’t imagine how she must have felt out there, and the thought that she was suffering all those hours makes me want to empty my stomach. There’s nothing more painstakingly agonizing in this world than when my wife is hurting. She so very rarely shows weakness or vulnerability, preferring to be a good man in a storm, that at times she comes across as emotionally stunted, but the Arizona that skates around on shoes with wheels all day, the Arizona that is perky and smiling all the time, is only one side to her. I’ve seen her at her highest and I’ve seen her at her lowest and that is what I love about her. While she presents nothing but a happy and perky facade to the outside world, when it’s just her and I, she allows me to see all of her, not just the happy but everything that she is.
Seconds tick by and minutes pass and still nothing. The beeping of the monitor tells me her heart is still beating, yet the tube down her throat lets me know that while out of the woods literally, she’s still fighting to survive. It’s just a matter of waiting I tell myself. I know the odds, I know what the most likely outcome is, but it doesn’t make it any less terrifying having to sit here and watch her fight to stay alive. It makes me think back to when I was in the same position last year. Arizona was so strong when things looked bad for me, she never left my side, exhausting herself between being with me and being in the NICU for our daughter. After I woke up and started the recovery process Arizona threw herself into being the best she could be for me, but I always saw how hard it was on her, the toll the accident had taken on her. I think at times that I took it for granted how dedicated and determined she was, and now that I’m in the same position I wonder how she ever made it through those times. It’s only been a day, not even twenty-four hours since I received word that their plane went down, and I’m already about to fall apart.
The thing is, I’m lost without Arizona. I used to think that love was something that was given freely, that love was something that came along often. But it wasn’t until I met Arizona that I realized I had never truly experienced love. The way she looks at me daily, reverent and thankful, almost, that she has me. The way she touches me as we make love. When she tells me she loves me, I not only hear it but feel it in the depths of my soul. One look, one touch, one whispered word from her, and I know she loves me. It’s not something I’ll ever second guess or have to wonder about, because she shows me every day. She makes me feel wanted and safe. She makes me feel safe and cherished. She’s my other half, as cheesy as it is, and because I know how much she loves me I’ve never contemplated what it would be like to be without her. Even when we broke up over children, she was still my dream. Even when she left for Africa, she was still the only person I could see myself spending my life with. When she looked as though I ripped her world out in that elevator as I told her I was pregnant with Mark’s child, when she looked like she wished she was ten feet under, she was the only person I knew that could make it better. Even in our worst moments, she’s all I ever see. To have her laying motionless in front of me, physically hurt, knowing she’ll be emotionally scarred, it terrifies me because if I’m lost, how am I going to help her find herself again? All I want is for her to open her eyes. All I want is to hear her voice. All I want is for her to live, for me and so I tell her that as I sit vigil at her bedside, I beg her to live, I plead with her to please, live for me.
********************
It’s been six days and still no change. I’ve had the best doctors money can buy fly in and consult on her case and they all give me the same answer.
“It’s a waiting game. It’s up to her now, we’ve done everything medically possible.”
And then I say, the same way every time:
“You can’t be right, you must have missed something. If it was up to her she’d be awake now. She wouldn’t keep me waiting like this, she would want to be here with us.”
On the tenth day I bring Sofia by to say hi to her Mom, she’s been looking for her every day.
On the fifteenth day I bring photos and flowers, her perfume and her pillow.
On the twentieth day I cry because it hurts so much
On the thirtieth day they tell me maybe it's time to think about letting her go.
********************
Three months ago I was happy. I had everything I’d always wanted in life. Today I have nothing. They say life changes in an instant, it can turn on a dime and you just have to pray it goes your way. I prayed and I hoped. I wished and I begged. I cried and I screamed and I yelled and I pleaded but it didn’t go my way. They had to physically lift me from her bed because in that moment all I wanted was to be with her. It didn’t matter that where she was I couldn’t follow, all I knew was that when they flipped the switch, I died with her. That’s all it takes, an instant, a few seconds for your world to change. A short phone call, a car ride, a twenty minute plane trip, a flip of a switch. It’s a matter of seconds.
They tell me she wouldn’t want me like this. They tell me she’d want for me to move on. They tell me all sorts of things but they don’t know. They have no idea.
Today I bury my wife, my soul mate, my other half.
As the dirt slips through my fingers and I hear it hit the oak coffin, I fall to my knees. I feel hands placed on my back and words being whispered but I push them away because nothing can make this right.
"Arizona Robbins, I love you and no distance, not even the distance from heaven to earth will change that. Keep my side of the cloud warm for me, I will be there with you one day, my love." I stand abruptly, tears clouding my vision, shoulders slumped. As I hear them lower her to the ground, my heart goes with her. The rain pours from the gray sky and soaks me through to the bone but I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything. How can I when my heart was just buried beneath a pile of dirt?
**************************
Snapping awake from the dream and rushing to the bathroom of Arizona's private room to lose my lunch is the first time I've moved since what felt like the years I was in that nightmare. I don't even remember falling asleep. I am supposed to be awake, be waiting for her to come back to me, and I can't even... And it's suddenly too much, too much to bear standing. Though that might just be the fact that I haven't used my legs since they'd brought Arizona to me after the surgery. Either way, it means that I hit my knees just in time to heave into the toilet bowl. And tears, angry, scared, utterly terrified sobbing escapes with my lunch. Funny, almost, because I can't remember the last time I've eaten, the last time I was even hungry.
I try to stop when it starts to hurt but I can't do it, my chest aching from what I'm sure is a combination of the puking, the crying, and the fact that Arizona isn't awake yet. If I never see her open her eyes again, I'm not sure the hurt will ever go away, like a phantom limb. Except I've never heard of anyone living with a phantom heart.
My stomach is beyond empty by the time I get the heaving under control, one hand blindly fumbling for the flush while the other hand braces against the floor and I start the process of getting back on my feet. Because I know I need to be strong for Arizona right now, but I've never felt more weak in my entire life. But she's what matters right now, not how badly I wish I could stay on this floor and feel miserable about what's become of my life.
The water, swirling in the basin of the toilet, pouring from the faucet in the sink as I wash my hands, is all I can hear and I try and pace my breathing to the steady rhythm I can hear in the rush of droplets.
It's only when I twist the knob to close the valve that I hear anything else.
Specifically the increased pace of the monitor in the other room. I freeze thinking maybe I'm imagining it, after all I've been stuck in this room for a month solid only leaving to see my baby girl when necessary. But as I slowly approach the door that seperates me from where Arizona lays I stop in my tracks. I hear can the beeping getting faster, a lot faster than it has been in such a long time. My heart races in time with the beeping. What if I walk out there and the worst is happening? What happens if she's finally given up the fight to stay with me. I've been by her bedside since they wheeled her in from Surgery. I've stayed every single night despite the many protests of my father, the Robbin's and Mark, and the rest of the hospital staff. I've neglected Sofia even, something I thought I would never do. At first I had her come and stay with me in the room, getting Mark to bring her porta cot over but after nearly two weeks he put his foot down. I love my daughter more than anything but having my wife, my soul mate laying alone every night, lost to a land of darkness and uncertainty...well I couldn't let her be on her own. I needed her to know that I was here for her even if she doesn't conciously know.
I have a thousand what if's swirling around in my mind as I hear the still increased monitor. A lot of what if's that I don't even want to think about but the biggest what if is the one that urges me to turn the handle, the biggest what if is the one that screams at me. 'What if she's come back to me', with that thought in mind I push forward. I push the door open and close my eyes briefly before opening them. My gaze automatically finds Arizona and staring back at me, are not closed eyes but the the brightest blue you can imagine. Staring back at me is my wife, she's looking right at me and its...it's overwhelming. I've waited and I've waited, day in and day out. I've prayed and I've begged for someone to bring her back to me. I never gave up once.
Her eyes lock onto mine and I see the relief, confusion but most of all after everything that has happened I see the love in those eyes. I stand there paralyzed. Something in my brain tells me I should be moving, I should be over there covering her face with kisses and thanking her for coming back to me but something else stops me. What if this isn't real? What if my mind is playing tricks on me? Giving me what I've been so desperately craving. What if this is just another dream? If it is I'm not sure I want to wake up from it because being able to finally after all this time, after all the tears and heartache I've endured over the past month look into my wifes eyes is a dream come true so if this is just a dream I don't want to leave.
Before I can move, a nurse rushes in followed by Bailey. I notice Bailey give me a confused look as she rushes to Arizona's bedside. I stand there still in my fearful and frozen state and watch as they take the breathing tube out of Arizona's throat, I watch as she coughs and sputters and as she pushes Baileys hand out of the road as the attending offers her a glass of water. The whole time her eyes have not left mine as as she opens her mouth and whispers a husky 'Calliope' my world suddenly rights itself again. Like a jigsaw flying together, every missing piece that has been gone since that fateful night glues itself back together because Arizona is whispering for me to come closer, she's crying tears as she whispers how much she loves me. My heart swells as tears fill my eyes. No longer frozen, no longer wondering if this is a dream I take the few steps that seperates us and throw myself agaisnt my wife. Immediately arms wrap around my shoulders as I cling to her, my wife, my love who came back to me. Her whispered declarations , the stroke of her hands against my head, the feel of her lips against my cheek overwhelms me but in the best way possible. I pull back tears falling hard and fast and look into her eyes.
"I thought I had lost you" I cry.
"You could never lose me Calliope" she say's her voice weak from lack of using it..
I shake my head in frustration needing her to know exactly how lost I've been. "You've been gone for so long. I was so scared. I cried and I begged you to come back to me"
"Baby, I'm so sorry. You know I would never willingly leave you. I'm so sorry. I love you" she says her voice stronger now.
"I promised you that I would never leave you but I need you to promise me the same thing. Never leave. Promise me now Arizona" I say to her as I cup her face between my hands. I nearly cry at the warmth that settles in my fingertips. The way she nod's her head in the affirmative, the way her hands lay on top of mine.
"I promise you. I will never leave. I'm not going anywhere" she tells me.
I want to say more, I want to tell her everything. How I thought she was gone. How I've never been so scared in my life. How I never left her bedside and how i never stopped hoping but no words come out. We look into each other's eye's and everything I want to say passes between us. She smiles at me, a beautiful heart stopping smile before she leans forward and takes my lips with hers. At first I freeze because the sensation of her warm lips upon mine is something I had nearly convinced myself I wouldn't feel again but the moment her tonuge drags along my bottom lip I'm a goner. I open my mouth and let her in. Our tongues tangle, and our lips move together in a dance as old as time. I let myself get lost in her touch savoring each second of every caress and I give back just as much making sure she feels every single emotion in this kiss because from now on I'm not letting one single moment slip by where she doesn't know how much I love her because sometimes the inevitable happens, one day your plane might crash from the sky and it may all be taken away in a second or maybe your car ploughs into a truck or a madman shoots up your workplace.
They say you never know what is around the corner and just maybe in this instance they are right. Maybe they do know what they are talking about some of the time. All I know is that from now on I won't take one day for granted, one hour or one minute not even a second. From this day forward I'm going to live life to the fullest because this past month has taught me the hardest lesson of all:
Life can change in an instant, turn on a dime.