Out of Africa: The Chain
Title: The Chain
Author: Kermdawg
Pairing: Callie/Mark, Callie/Arizona
Rating: PG-13 just to be on the safe side
Summary: Callie’s regrets after her night with Mark. How can she get her life back?
Disclaimer: All television shows, books, movies, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work and the characters, events, and settings 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.
Song lyrics from “The Chain” by Ingrid Michaelson
A/N: This is my first fanfic, so be gentle. I’m not outrageously happy with it, but it got my creative juices flowing. Got inspired listening to some Ingrid Michaelson yesterday and wanted to contribute to the Out of Africa event. No beta. All mistakes are mine.
The sky looks pissed
The wind talks back
My bones are shifting in my skin
And you, my love, are gone.
I’m lying in Mark’s bed, listening to it storm outside. The sky looks angry, with dark, swirling clouds being illuminated as lightening strikes every so often. “What have I done?” I mutter softly to myself as I sorrowfully glance over at a snoring Mark. I hear the wind rustling through the windows, almost like it’s taunting me. Its howl sounds like laughter, taking amusement in the fact that I have once again screwed up another relationship. Arizona left me. And I was the reason. Why couldn’t I have just kept my big mouth shut and learned to love Africa like Mark told me to? Mark. What was I thinking? Even if Arizona were to come back tomorrow, how could she forgive me for this? Mark and our codependency has always been the biggest obstacle in my relationship with Arizona and I’ve been a fool not to see it. And where has it gotten me? Drunken pity sex with the one person that could ruin any chance of EVER getting back with Arizona. Even I wouldn’t take me back at this point. I’m disgusted with myself, my skin is crawling at the thoughts and I feel sick. I jump out of the bed and dash to the bathroom before emptying the remnants of this evening’s pity party at Joe’s. After washing my face, I chance a glimpse of my face in the mirror. Smeared mascara and dark circles surround my hollow eyes. I’m pathetic. How do I let myself get to this point? How do I always manage to ruin my own happiness? She’s gone. And it’s my fault. Before I realize what I’m doing, I put my fist through the mirror. I barely register the sharp pain coming from the shards of glass now embedded in my hand. Numbness. That's what I feel. Cold and numb. And alone.
Mark bursts through the door after hearing the crash. “What the hell did you do, Torres?” he asks. I stare at him, tears streaming down my face, pain and regret now completely on display. He nods. He understands. I think he knew it was a mistake, but he couldn’t turn me down. He couldn’t be the next person to reject me. “Let’s get you cleaned up and over to the ER”, he says. “No”, I whisper back. “I don’t want anyone seeing me like this. I know you have got to have some supplies. Please just take care of it here.” “Ok” he says, “Go sit down and I’ll grab the bandages and suture.” I take a seat at the dining room table, anticipating the pain the night will bring and its welcomed distraction.
My room seems wrong
The bed won’t fit
I cannot seem to operate
And you, my love, are gone.
The chief was none too happy to learn that I would be unable to operate for the next couple of weeks. Guess I won’t be there to carry out his “big plans”. What a joke. I’ve been back at work for a month and the man has barely spoken 2 sentences to me. Arizona was right; he was just messing with my head. Arizona. Great. Due to my self-inflicted injury I won’t even have surgeries to take my mind off her. Way to go, Torres… Well, at least this gives me time to catch up on my cartilage research, not to mention hiding in the lab away from the prying eyes and gossip mill that seem to infest this hospital.
I spend the day in silence carefully noting each and every step of my research methods. I actually managed to make it a couple of hours without thinking about the whole messy Arizona situation. Arizona. Ugh…so much for that. I boot up my laptop, needing a break from the monotony of the lab. A message pops up alerting me that I have 5 new messages. Look at that, the chief actually wants to meet with me to discuss some issues. Maybe something good will come of this day after all. I scroll down the page deleting all the spam mail as I go. My heart stops at the last message. It’s from Arizona. I hesitate, but curiosity gets the better of me and I click on the message.
I’m so sorry. Forgive me. -A
Guilt washes over me and I crumble. I’m the sorry one. I let my mouth ruin things for my heart. And I promised her. I promised her that there was nothing and never would be anything but friendship between Mark and me. I’ve been a fool. Why has it taken me so long to realize this? As all these emotions rushed through me, I typed. I wrote every thought and every feeling I’ve had over the past month. How it felt when Teddy all but told me she never asked about me. About getting shot down by the redhead who was more into my new haircut than she was into me. And after a couple of shaky breaths, I wrote about Mark and my incident with the mirror immediately following. I wrote about what a mistake it was. About how I thought that the stubble and hardness wouldn’t do anything to remind me of the softness and tenderness we had shared. I needed not to remember that, but that’s all I did. The coarse stubble, the flat, hard chest…all it did was remind me that that’s not what I want. It’s not what I love. I love you and only you. Please find the strength to forgive me. I’ll do whatever it takes. I love you. My hand shook violently as the cursor hovered over the send button. I closed my eyes and clicked. It’s done. She knows. She will hate me or she will forgive me, but she knows. Deep down I’ve known that her leaving without me was best. We would’ve probably broken up by the end of the flight the way we were going at it. It hurt. It will always hurt. The regrets and the cold words. We can’t take them back. What’s said is said. But we can forgive and do our best to forget. At least I hope so.
So glide away on soapy heels
And promise not to promise anymore
And if you come around again
Then I will take the chain from off the door.
Two weeks have passed since I poured my heart out via e-mail and not a word from Arizona. Even though I’m hurt that she hasn’t responded, I feel some peace in finally conveying to her everything that I’m feeling. We were never good at that when we were together and now we probably won’t ever have the chance to change that. At least I tried. I maneuver around all the unpacked boxes in my apartment clutching a glass a wine in my now healing hand. Mark did a good job stitching me up. Mark. I told him it would be best if we kept so distance for a while. Even though he still lives across the hall, we agreed to give each other some space. Aside from a friendly “hello” or smile in the hallway, we haven’t really interacted for the past couple of weeks. It’s for the best. I need to learn how to survive on my own. It’s time to grow up. I’m startled out of my reverie by a light knock at the door. It’s almost 11PM…wonder who it could be. Better not be Yang wanting to discuss new career opportunities over a bottle of Cuervo. Who am I kidding…Christina has never knocked. She usually just screams through the door wondering why they hell it was locked in the first place. Not knowing who it could be at this late hour, I keep the chain latched as I crack the door open. As blue eyes move up from the floor to meet mine, I’m pretty sure my heart officially stopped. “Hey” she says exhaling a breathe she had been holding for quite a while. “Hey” I offer back softly. She gives me a shy smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she holds up some worn out, typed pages. “I got your email…I was wondering if we could talk.” I smile back at her, the first real smile in months. “Come on in” I say as I reach to take the chain from off the door…