Scar Tissue (Part Two) -- Chapter 26
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Scar Tissue (Part Two)
Chapter 26
Authors: kennedysbitch & livelovelearneg
Beta'd by englishstrawbie
Rating: NC-17 [Depictions of violence, PTSD, Language, Sexual Content]
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Disclaimer
Scar Tissue [masterpost]
Summary: When Arizona Robbins’ brother dies in Iraq, her life takes off in a completely different direction. Now a highly-rated trauma surgeon with the United States Marine Corps, she spends the three years following his death serving their country overseas - until an insurgent attack leaves her with debilitating injuries. Traveling to Seattle at her father’s request, she falls under the care of orthopedic surgeon Dr. Calliope Torres. Damaged emotionally and physically, Arizona tries to start the healing process with the help of a headstrong woman she never saw coming.
Part Two: Now free from the confines of a hospital bed for the first time
in almost five months, Arizona begins her physical and emotional recovery while
navigating a budding yet rocky relationship with Callie Torres.
Warnings: Depictions of violence, PTSD, Language, Sexual Content
Trailer:
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“Y’know, for a place that I felt trapped in a few months ago, this isn’t half bad,” Arizona proclaimed as she strolled hand in hand through the hospital with her significant other. They had taken a detour to give Callie a chance to grab her things and change, and now they were enjoying a scenic stroll on their way to the staff exit. Before today, Arizona’s visits had been confined to her private room and the physical therapy gym. This was the first time she had been given a guided tour, showcasing some of the more aesthetic points of the building.
Callie came to a stop on the bridge corridor that overlooked the lobby, resting her forearms on the railing and watching the end-of-shift bustle going on below. “This place has become my second home over the years. You just have to know where the quiet areas are during the day and which bathrooms to avoid, and you’re golden.”
“It’s smaller than Hopkins,” Arizona said thoughtfully, setting her crutches aside before reclining backward against the glass panels. “But it seems cosier; more close-knit. I like it.”
“I knew in my third year of residency that this is where I wanted to work as an attending,” Callie replied. Her focus shifted out the floor-to-ceiling windows and to the snow-capped mountains lining the horizon. “There was always the option of moving back to Miami but Seattle really grew on me after a while.”
“Like a barnacle,” Arizona teased. “I can see how that happened.”
Callie laughed. “Pretty much. I’m glad I stuck around. And that they hired me right after my boards.”
“I don’t know,” Arizona said idly, “if you had gone to Miami General, we could be sunning ourselves on the beach right now.” Earning a surprised stare, she quirked a tiny smile. “I would’ve flown to Mars if that’s where you were stationed, Calliope. Your reputation is a lot bigger than I think you realize.”
That caused Callie to blush. “I’m just glad you weren’t stubborn enough to refuse treatment in the first place,” she chuckled, reaching down and lacing their fingers together. “I probably would’ve ended up with sixteen cats and started living in the basement again if I hadn’t met you.”
Arizona grinned widely and bumped Callie with her shoulder. “And I would’ve turned into the grumpy old hag that the neighbourhood kids make up scary stories about and dare each other to ring the doorbell,” she mused, dropping her eyes to her girlfriend’s mouth.
Callie felt herself being drawn in by Arizona’s magnetic pull, no longer paying the least bit of attention to their surroundings. “Guess we both lucked out then,” she whispered, closing her eyes and tilting her head down for a kiss.
“Dr. Robbins!”
Both women jerked away before their lips could actually touch. Seeing the man she recognized as her father’s long-time acquaintance, Arizona straightened her spine and gave a respectful nod out of habit, dropping Callie’s hand. “Chief Webber, hi.”
Callie instantly paled. “Chief,” she stuttered, her voice cracking up an octave. “Been there long?” The frightened look she shot Arizona clearly read that her boss wasn’t privy to their relationship, at least not to her knowledge. Even though they were no longer doctor and patient, she didn’t want to be thought of as another Izzie Stevens.
Luckily, Webber was distracted by the electronic tablet in his hand and didn’t appear to have noticed their almost-kiss. “I’m trying to get this god-awful machine to let me into the network but I think it’s broken. I can’t access any of my damn charts.”
Doing her best to shed any sort of guilty appearances, Callie reached out. “Can I help?”
Webber passed it over and, sure enough, he had somehow disconnected the device from the intranet, an easy fix that only required the push of a button. Callie, however, was not about to make the Chief of Surgery look like an idiot, so she re-enabled it without a word and spent a few minutes tooling around so it seemed more complicated.
As soon as the iPad was out of his hands, Webber set his sights on Arizona. “It’s great to see you up and walking around, Dr. Robbins. Or should I be calling you Lieutenant?”
Arizona didn’t feel it was necessary to correct him on her proper title. “Doctor is fine,” she said with a friendly smile, shaking his hand. “Dr. Torres here was just showing me around after my latest physical therapy appointment. It’s a beautiful hospital - much nicer when I’m not bed-ridden on the third floor.”
Webber’s laugh was just a little too put-on for it not to be suspicious. “It is a nice hospital, if I do say so myself. The location is spectacular; the staff, spectacular. Research grants are set to flow in at an all-time high next year. The innovative and state-of-the-art technology we use, it’s all very, very…”
“Spectacular?” Arizona suggested when he failed to completely his sentence.
Callie paused in the middle of studying an e-chart to slowly raise her head, staring hard at her boss. He was chomping at the bit and definitely had something up his sleeve, she just couldn’t tell what it was yet.
With both hands folded neatly behind his back, Richard swivelled around to stare across the atrium, practically glowing with pride. “I’ve been here for nearly thirty years and I have to say, this is one of the finest programs in the country. We’ve been ranked at least third overall as a teaching hospital for nearly a decade now. Last year we even moved up into second.”
Callie snorted as she swiped a finger across the touch screen. “Yeah, except this year we dropped all the way down to twel-”
Webber shot her a severe glare that pretty much guaranteed she would be fired if she didn’t stop talking. Callie clamped her mouth shut and immediately lowered her gaze back to the tablet.
“We’re no Hopkins,” the Chief continued, “but I know that with the right staff, we’ll get there sooner rather than later. Derek Shepherd currently heads our Neuro department and Preston Burke built this Cardiothoracic program from the ground up before he left. He’s gone on to win numerous awards based on brilliant techniques he developed while working within our walls. Even Torres here stands a real chance at become a Harper-Avery candidate with her cartilage research, if and when it goes to trial.”
Arizona tilted her head, fixing her girlfriend with a very pointed stare. “Oh she does, does she?” she asked slowly, one eyebrow creeping towards her hairline. “Funny, she failed to mention any such research. Ever.”
Callie shrunk inward as though her leather jacket were a turtle shell, failing in her efforts not to look as guilty as she felt.
“The people that work here do amazing things,” Webber said proudly, pivoting to face Arizona and puffing out his chest. “Which is why, when you’re ready to get back to work, I hope you’ll come and have a chat with me first. We have an opening for the Head of our Trauma department, and given your reputation on the battlefield, I think you would be a perfect fit.”
Even though Webber’s sales pitch had grown painfully obvious to some, Arizona’s eyes still widened in surprise. “You do?” she asked, taken aback with the sudden job offer.
“I can promise you full supervision of a departmental overhaul, as well as funding for new staff and equipment if you deem it necessary,” Webber continued. “I’m sure you’ll have a lot of questions and concerns when the time comes, but for now, try to keep us in mind. I’ll have some paperwork drawn up to give you a better idea of what our offer could look like, and there will be plenty of room for any necessary alterations. The Board and I are very open to working together to make Seattle Grace-Mercy West the Pacific Northwest’s number one trauma destination.”
One would have thought that he was talking about a tropical resort. “Wow. I-I…wow,” Arizona stammered, flustered. “Chief Webber, that’s really…that’s very nice of you, I’m just not sure when-”
“Please, there’s no pressure, no deadline,” Webber cut in, waving a hand as if to dispel any notion of such a thing. “Just something to think about. My office is twenty feet away from where we’re standing now, so you know where to find me when the time comes.”
Arizona peeked around him at the corner office with the big windows. “O-okay. Thank you, sir. This is all - it’s a very generous offer.”
Even though she was hovering on the outskirts of the conversation, Callie could see her boss practically salivating at the prospect of getting a surgeon like Arizona to work for him. She had never seen Richard Webber in ass-kissing mode until now.
Which made it really hard for her not to smirk like a jackass and ruin the moment for Arizona.
“Can I take that to mean you’ll consider us as an option?” Richard asked hopefully, holding out his hand once again.
Arizona looked at it, hesitating for a few seconds before finally clasping his palm with her own. “I’ll think about it,” she confirmed, biting back a grin when he lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Excellent!”
For a moment Arizona was sure that he was going to try and push the conversation about her employment even further. Luckily for them all, he received an incoming page that seemed to be of some importance. Callie handed back his iPad before he could run off empty-handed.
“Well, I’ll leave you ladies to it,” he added, pocketing the pager in his lab coat and at the same time fishing out one of his cards. He extended it towards Arizona. “I hope to hear from you soon, Dr. Robbins. It’s never too early to talk about the future.”
Arizona accepted it and nodded politely, thinking that he sounded like a motivational poster. She half expected that to be a quote on his card. “Thank you, sir.”
She remained rooted in place as he bustled off, mumbling something about her bronze star and exemplary service record, no doubt quoting from sources he had looked up beforehand.
“What just happened?” she asked after a long break, left feeling somewhat confused by the whole thing. Webber had obviously planned this in advance and she definitely hadn’t seen it coming. Today was the first time she had even allowed herself to entertain the idea of going back to work; the timing was kind of conspicuous.
“I think he just tried to seduce you,” Callie replied. “Huh.”
“He really wants me to work here?” Arizona murmured sceptically, staring at his card and turning it over in her hand. “Maybe he’s just trying to meet his ‘affirmative action’ quota or something.”
Callie shot her an exasperated look. “Why wouldn’t he?” she prodded. “You’re a decorated military surgeon, Arizona. And, according to Teddy, one of the best trauma doctors there is. He would be stupid not to want you working for him. He’s probably just trying to get a jump on the competition.”
“I guess I never really thought about it,” Arizona admitted, opening her messenger bag and tucking the business card safely inside one of the pockets. “My whole attending career has been spent out in the field. It’s like I forgot I could actually work somewhere with four walls and air conditioning.”
Callie had to bite back a grin. “You know, it’s…not the worst idea in the world,” she hedged. “You working here. It’s safer, for one thing. And as much as he was kissing your ass, he wasn’t totally over-selling the place. We have a great program, it just needs some fine-tuning after a few rough years economically. Landing you would be like winning the surgical lottery.”
“I seem to remember us having this conversation once before,” Arizona mused, lifting an eyebrow. “I don’t remember it going particularly well.”
“I know, and this time I swear I’m not pushing,” Callie said quickly, looping a thumb beneath her shoulder strap and raising the other hand in defence. “We were a Level One Trauma Center until eight months ago and it’s killing the Chief to be stuck at Level Two. He probably thinks if we hire you to take over, we can get bumped up to a One again.”
“Heading my own program could be kind of fun,” Arizona considered, scrunching her forehead. “I’m sure it wouldn’t take too much effort to get it back up to snuff. This is assuming that I progress to more than a toe-dragging lurch, of course,” she added as an afterthought.
Callie pursed her lips and squinted dangerously. “Hm. Am I sensing some self-doubt creeping in again? You were over the moon for a whole half-hour there.”
“Not doubting, just…keeping it real,” Arizona said, shrugging. “Today was great, but it’s a whole different thing to stand at an OR table for hours on end than it is to walk ten steps across a room. In trauma, you have to be quick on your feet. That could be difficult for me, even in the long run.”
“I have faith that you could make it work if it’s what you really wanted,” Callie said confidently, stepping closer and giving Arizona’s arm a firm squeeze. “Just don’t let his offer put any pressure on your recovery. You have plenty of time to sort it all out and you don’t need to do anything before you’re ready.”
For once, Arizona didn’t feel a single trace of anxiety. “Thank you,” she whispered, echoing her earlier sentiment.
Callie tried to play it cool, even though more butterflies exploded in her abdomen. It felt great to see Arizona so full of confidence again. The last time they’d had a serious conversation about possible career changes, Arizona had yelled and they’d barely spoken for two days. Now she didn’t look bothered at the thought of what her future might hold.
“We should get you home,” Callie added after a moment of quiet reflection. Now that the Chief was gone, she extended her hand and intertwined their fingers. “We have some pretty heavy celebrating to do, if I recall correctly.”
Arizona allowed her to lead the way, too busy thinking about recent developments to pay much attention to the hospital’s architecture. As big as the job offer was, there was also something new she was dying to ask questions about.
***
“So you’re basically growing replacement cartilage in a test tube - from paste. Which is possibly one of the biggest breakthroughs in the field of orthopedics in the last twenty years, and you just…forgot to mention it to me?”
Arizona was totally unimpressed. That much Callie knew for sure.
To her credit, Callie did manage to look slightly guilty for withholding information. “It’s not that simple,” she said through a long breath, fumbling to unlock their apartment door. “Things are complicated right now. It was kind of on hold for a few months while I reworked some of my research and waited for more funding.”
Arizona pursed her lips, unconvinced by the nonchalant attitude. “Callie, why didn’t you tell me? I’m a trauma surgeon; you didn’t think I’d be interested in something like this?”
“No,” Callie argued, then quickly clarified, “I mean, yes. Of course I thought you would be interested, it’s just…you’ve had other things on your plate. A lot of other things. I figured I’d wait until I had more interesting news to share.” They stepped inside and she closed the door behind them.
Arizona drilled holes in the side of Callie’s head with a hard stare. She knew when a topic was being danced around - she was a master of those techniques, after all.
“I wasn’t even sure what my lab time would produce, if anything,” Callie added as she dumped her purse on the couch. “It’s really not a big deal. So far it’s just a bunch of floating mush. And it stinks. Like, badly. You’re not missing out on anything science-y or cool.”
If Callie hadn’t been avoiding eye contact like a bad case of syphilis, Arizona might have taken the bait. “You are allowed to tell me things, you know,” she said cautiously, stepping closer and reaching out to touch her arm. “Just because my leg blew up and I got a little winded at the wharf, doesn’t mean I’m not interested in hearing about your life.”
Callie was silent, so Arizona pushed on. “Believe me, I crave outside influence, especially if it’s you-related. Throw in a cool medical mystery and my ears are all yours, just like the rest of me.”
This time it was Callie who shot Arizona a trying look. “You don’t need to worry about the mundane stuff going on in my work life. You should be concentrating on physical therapy and doing your thing. That’s way, way more important right now.”
Releasing an exasperated sigh, Arizona yanked Callie closer and slid both hands inside her jacket, curving around her sides. “You are my thing, Callie Torres. I want my life to be about you, not prescription dosages or leg presses. Or sleeping until noon on Mondays because I’m unemployed and really, really bored.”
“You love sleeping in on Mondays,” Callie pointed out. “You rub it in every chance you get.”
“Point being,” Arizona continued, ignoring the jab, “you shouldn’t hide things from me when you’re proud of them. I can tell this cartilage stuff excites you and I want to know all about it. So no more keeping secrets, even it’s well-intentioned. Okay?”
Callie grunted under her breath and narrowed her eyes into slits. “You’re very persuasive. Just don’t blame me when my stacks of research papers put you to sleep.”
Arizona smiled and guided her partner into a delicate kiss. “Teddy’s the one that snubs bone stuff in favour of sucking chest wounds,” she murmured. “I love bones. And I love you, so you can bet your next paycheque that I’m gonna love hearing about your findings.”
A part of Callie wasn’t completely sold on the importance of her research in the grand scheme of things, but Arizona’s exuberance was kind of infectious. She couldn’t deny that the prospect of growing cartilage in a lab was electrifying and that the possibilities for future use were astronomical. It had been a while since she’d been able to geek out over it with any of her close friends. None of them cared much about orthopedics.
Arizona’s grin was radiant as she leaned in to invade Callie’s senses. “No more hiding?” she husked, keeping herself at a tantalizingly close distance.
“No more hiding,” Callie promised, wholly distracted by the lips being kept just barely out of reach. She probably would have agreed to go bungee jumping without a second a thought if Arizona kept this up.
Just as they began to indulge themselves in an explorative kiss, Arizona felt the cell phone in Callie’s pocket start to vibrate. When it didn’t go away, she sighed against the mouth currently mingling with hers. “You should probably get that,” she relented, breaking apart. “I’ll get dinner started.”
Pouting, Callie released her hold and took out the phone. “Be careful with your leg,” she called after Arizona, who had ditched one of her crutches and hobbled away with only the right side remaining for support. There was little doubt in Callie’s mind that Arizona would probably crash hard tonight after a long afternoon in physical therapy.
“Torres?”
Mark’s voice on the other line pulled her attention back to the call. “Mark! Hey, sorry, I didn’t look at the call display first. How are you?”
“Very hot,” Mark said flatly. “It’s a hundred degrees in New York. But I did just get a hair cut and look exquisitely debonair, if you catch my drift.”
Callie rolled her eyes and flopped down on the couch, kicking her legs onto the coffee table. “We both know your head looks like a feather duster when it’s humid.”
The insult did nothing to dissuade Mark from a little harmless flirting. “I distinctly remember you using it as handlebars when it meant you could shove my head in between your-”
“Okay,” Callie cut him off, casting a quick glance at Arizona in the kitchen, exponentially glad that she hadn’t put Mark on speaker phone. “Cut to the chase, you perv. What’s up?”
“Guess who I ran into today?”
“Another illegitimate child?”
Mark growled. “Funny. No, I met your girlfriend’s father.”
Callie lurched upright, nearly knocking over a day-old glass of water that was sitting stagnant by her foot. “What?” she shrilled. Arizona shot an inquisitive look over the breakfast bar and Callie plastered a quick smile on her face. “I mean…when? Where?” she asked more calmly.
Mark’s husky laugh reverberated down the line. “New York Pres is sponsoring some pro bono reconstructive surgeries for injured vets. He’s in town to speak with returning troops. I caught his name when I was in the boardroom stealing free donuts. It’s a big PR thing for both sides, apparently.”
“What did you say to him?” Callie peeked at Arizona a second time, attempting to remain inconspicuous while watching her chop vegetables.
“Nothing about you and Robbins specifically,” Mark replied. “Just that I recognized his name and met her when she was being treated.”
“What did he say?”
This time Mark hesitated. “He’s not the most talkative guy I’ve ever met. He was a little…intense.”
Callie knew that was his version of ‘scary’. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to feel jealous or anxious that her best friend had met her Arizona’s father before she did. “Huh. That’s so random. I don’t even think she knew he was out there.”
“I don’t get the sense that there’s a whole lot of father-daughter bonding going on between them,” Mark agreed. “Anyway, how’s she doin’? You two get down and dirty yet?”
Callie flushed red in the face. “Maybe.” She could practically hear him smirking from all the way across the country. “It’s been good. We’re really good. She actually got cornered by Webber and talked into an interview earlier. He acted more like he would be the one trying to woo her for the job, too.”
“For the trauma centre?” he asked. “And she’s okay with that?”
“Yeah, of course she is,” Callie said slowly, furrowing her brow at the scepticism in his voice.
“Huh. That’s a little…surprising.”
“Really? Why?” Callie glanced at Arizona again, catching her eye. “It’s Mark,” she mouthed.
“I don’t know,” Mark replied a bit awkwardly. “I’m just surprised you sound so calm about the idea. You said that she’s been through some pretty rough stuff lately and I assumed a trauma room would be counter-productive.”
For the first time since Webber’s intervention, Callie frowned. She hadn’t really thought about it that way; at least, not since the conversation with her boss took place less than an hour ago. Arizona had seemed so happy at the prospect of working again that Callie was caught up in the moment. Now her fears from several months ago came trickling back in.
“It’s not a terrible idea,” Mark continued when Callie said nothing. “Hell, what do I know? You guys keep that stuff private and I get it. You’ve said it before yourself, though, a trauma room doesn’t exactly sound like the healthiest atmosphere for someone in her shoes.”
“Yeah,” Callie said faintly, sinking back into the couch. She hated the sudden doubt that had flooded her system, but Mark had just knocked down a wall she had temporarily forgotten about in the rush of excitement. She wanted to be happy for Arizona - taking her first solo steps and realizing that she was still a hot commodity in the surgical world were pretty momentous things.
“Cal?”
Callie shook her head and focused back on the conversation. “Sorry; we’re trying to make dinner. How about I give you a call later tonight?”
Mark took the hint. “Sounds good. Say hi to Legs for me - and tell her I’m impressed that she didn’t turn out to be a heat-seeking cyborg like her father.”
Callie rolled her eyes at Mark’s affectionate nickname for Arizona. Not that she could blame him - despite the blast injuries, they were both in agreement that her girlfriend had fantastic legs. Callie whole-heartedly agreed even more now that she had been up close and personal with them in recent weeks.
Saying her goodbyes and hanging up, she stared absently at the phone, leaning forward to slide it onto the table.
“How’s Mark?”
She looked up and met the curious blue eyes aimed her way. “He’s good. Busy with pro bono work. Actually, speaking of…”
She pushed herself up, discarding her jacket in the process, and shuffled her way into the kitchen. “He kind of met your dad today.”
Arizona nearly chopped her pinkie finger off with the veggie knife. “What?!”
Callie quickly pulled the weapon out of her girlfriend’s hand and set it beside the cutting board before it could do any damage. “It was brief, but I guess your father was at some sort of veteran’s fundraiser in New York and Mark met him while the organizers were discussing donated surgical time. Sounds like it was totally random, he just happened to recognize your last name when it came up.”
Arizona seemed kind of shaken by the mention of her father. “Oh.”
Waiting for more questions, Callie raised an eyebrow when they didn’t come. “He said your dad is kind of intense. That’s Mark-speak for ‘terrifying’.”
Arizona smiled ruefully, taking a moment to gather herself before picking up the knife again. “That’s one way to describe him,” she muttered, focusing her attention on the red pepper that needed to be cut up.
Callie already knew that Arizona’s parents were a sore spot and the last thing she wanted to do was put a damper on what had been such a successful day. She voluntarily changed the subject.
“Anyway, Mark says hi. He thought it was cool that Webber offered you the job.”
At the mention of the day’s most recent development, a smile worked its way across Arizona’s lips. “Yeah, that was pretty neat, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” Callie said, forcing herself to sound more enthusiastic than she felt. It wasn’t that she had changed their mind about the two of them working together - that continued to be a brilliant idea in her mind - she was just suddenly feeling the weight of Mark’s astute observation.
Working in trauma was Arizona’s calling, the blonde had made that very clear to Callie early on. Yet the more Callie thought about it, the more she pictured the terrified look on her girlfriend’s face during flashbacks and the horrific panic attacks that followed. The idea of that happening at work was unimaginable.
“Do you think…” Callie trailed off, reworking her thoughts. “I know that you still have a way to go, and I’m one-hundred percent behind you working in the same hospital as me, but I’m just…I guess I’m a little worried. About you, and t-the nightmares, the flashbacks. Do you think jumping into a trauma situation might be a bad idea? At least, for now?”
Arizona froze mid-chop, turning her head to stare at Callie. “What brought this on? You were on board ten minutes ago.”
“I am on board,” Callie said hurriedly, dropping her gaze and bending over to dig out a giant frying pan from the cupboard. “I think you could really enjoy working there. I’m cautious, that’s all. You’ve come so far, been through so much, but you also still have those nightmares. And stuff like at the wharf, where you get…startled.”
Arizona tensed. It took some effort to close her eyes and pull in a deep breath, reminding herself that Callie was only being a concerned partner. “I know,” she said carefully, making sure to keep her tone neutral. “I haven’t exactly forgotten about my situation. I know what my limits are.”
Callie hovered by the stove, staring blankly at the appliance. “Do you?” she asked quietly, afraid of how harsh of an answer she might receive.
Arizona set down the knife again and wiped her hands on a tea towel, turning around and leaning against the counter. While her initial reaction was to snap that yes, she was ready for this, ready to take back control in her life, she was aware of her temper and the tendency to take it out on those close to her. She knew Callie was only speaking out of love.
“I guess I didn’t think about it too much,” she relented after a long pause. “The idea doesn’t fill me with dread, though. Not like it did before.”
Callie glanced over her shoulder and tweaked up the corners of her mouth. “Yeah?”
Arizona smiled shakily, too. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Today was just a baby step, but it helped me realize that I’m allowed to want more. I’m allowed to start thinking about things beyond a day at a time. For a while, I wouldn’t let myself do that. I was too afraid of what would happen if I failed.”
When her frozen muscles started to move again, Callie poured cooking oil into the pan and turned the element on. “I’m glad,” she said earnestly. “You deserve to get everything you want. I want that for you, too.”
Arizona felt herself beginning to relax and she hop-stepped forward, resting her hip against the counter next to the stove, facing her girlfriend. “I know that first and foremost, I want you,” she murmured, reaching out to trail her fingers along Callie’s spine. “As for the rest - I have options and time to think about it all. I haven’t made any decisions yet.”
Callie continued to stare into the frying pan, watching as the oil started to ripple. She looked contemplative, shivering at the gentle touch.
There were a lot of things to consider when it came to what was and wasn’t a healthy environment for someone with reoccurring post-traumatic symptoms. Callie was getting the feeling that Arizona was avoiding focusing on the bigger problems that had been plaguing her over the course of the last few weeks. Not that Callie could blame her - harping on the bad was a terrible way to live, especially when the good things were finally starting to come in bigger numbers.
“Have you thought any more about talking to someone?” she asked carefully, tipping the vegetables into the pan and stirring them around with a wooden spoon. The hiss that filled the air as they sautéed served as a steadying background noise.
Arizona’s hand stilled. She released a frustrated breath, tired of the repeat subject, but mindful of her girlfriend’s legitimate worries. “Not really,” she admitted.
Callie briefly closed her eyes before fixing them on Arizona again. “You still have the nightmares. Not every night, but they’re there. I don’t know if you always remember, and I don’t really bring it up in the mornings-”
“I know when they happen,” Arizona cut in, staring absently at the cuff of Callie’s sleeve and playing with the material between her fingers. “I remember sometimes. Not necessarily the details, but I can tell when I wake up feeling like I got hit by a bus. At least the nosebleeds have stopped for now.”
Most nights, Callie was able to shake Arizona gently and whispered in her ear until she settled, and that was that. A few times, however, Arizona had awoken in a panic and taken some extra coaxing to get back to sleep. It could be tiring for Callie, too, but she would much rather wake up and prevent these things from getting worse than sleep through the events herself.
“I love you,” she stated over the sizzling of the vegetables. “I want you to be happy. Whatever you end up doing, I’ll support you a thousand percent. But I do think this is something you need to consider before jumping back into a potentially difficult situation.”
“You think I don’t take it seriously?” Arizona asked, arching a brow.
“I think that the idea of talking to someone about what you went through still scares you,” Callie said, staring hard at the stove. “I also think that being submerged in a busy trauma centre could be a potential trigger. You never know what you might see.”
Arizona chewed on her bottom lip and contemplated things. “I’ve thought about that once or twice. What it would be like to jump right back in. It’s different; the kinds of injuries you see in the city aren’t the same as the ones you get out there.”
“But the trauma is,” Callie pointed out. “The pain, the death; victims and their families. Those kinds of things are universal. I would worry about you getting hit with a reminder and it catching you by surprise.”
Arizona’s stomach twisted into knots, though not as awful and crippling as they had been in the past. Thinking about potential triggers didn’t send her into the fetal position or bring on a panic attack, which was good to know. She still couldn’t focus too deeply on the things that haunted her when she closed her eyes - the ones she could visually decipher and the others that were only horrific in feeling.
“The idea of going to therapy…” Arizona trailed off, watching Callie cook. “I know it’s exactly what I would suggest if I were on the other side. If it was you, or someone else I cared about. It makes sense, it just doesn’t feel right. At least, not the psychiatrist thing. I can’t really explain it.”
“I know what you mean,” Callie whispered, her hands beginning to shake as she nearly flicked a bell pepper chunk right out of the pan. She closed her eyes and inhaled a wavering breath, hoping that Arizona couldn’t see how ridiculously nervous she was all of a sudden.
“I don’t know if you do,” Arizona continued. “It just sounds like I’m being stubborn. Explaining what I went through, the explosion and some of the awful things before that even happened - it’s not easy to talk about. If I could tell you, I would, but thinking about it physically hurts. I don’t know why, it just does. Spilling my guts to a stranger seems impossible when I can’t even tell the woman I’m involved with.”
“I really do get it,” Callie hedged, sneaking a quick look at her partner. She steadied herself for the words that would come next, something she had never told anyone before. “I saw the hospital psychiatrist a little less than two years ago. Twice a week for a couple of months.”
Arizona straightened her posture, surprised at the new revelation. “You did?”
“Yes, I did.” Callie licked her lips, hating how badly her arms were shaking. She didn’t want to make this about her when it was supposed to be about Arizona. If this information could help her with her decision, though, then it was worth sharing.
Inhaling deeply through her nose, Callie set the wooden spoon down and turned to meet Arizona’s gaze directly. “I had a miscarriage a little while ago, near the end of my first trimester.”
Arizona was visibly shell shocked. “You…y-you did?”
Callie nodded. “I did. It was when George and I…we were trying, but then he cheated on me and we separated. I found out about a month after, while he was still seeing Izzie Stevens.”
The quietness in their kitchen was only ruptured by a loud ‘pop’ as a red pepper exploded. Callie removed the pan from the element and turned it off before facing Arizona again, crossing her arms loosely over her stomach.
“Things were so utterly and completely screwed up between George and me that I didn’t even know if I could tell him. By then I just wanted a divorce, to cut my losses and flee. It felt like he had sliced my dignity to shreds. I was embarrassed; everyone in the hospital knew he was screwing around with Stevens behind my back. By the time I realized that I wanted to be a mom, even without a husband, I lost the baby. It was awful.”
Arizona hardly knew what to say to that. She took the brunette’s hands in her own and gave them a supportive squeeze. “Callie…”
“No, it’s okay,” Callie said quickly, mustering up a brave smile. “Really, it is. I’m not telling you this to compare personal pain or anything. I just wanted you to know that I felt the same way - I did not want to talk about it. Ever. But burying my pain and pretending that nothing had happened only made things worse. I stopped sleeping, I barely ate, and I got really sick. It took Mark to get me to see that I was hurting myself and make me realize that I had to confront it. I never told him why, I think he just assumed it was the divorce and the humiliation. But I reluctantly agreed to talk to the staff psychiatrist, and it helped. It really helped, Arizona, I promise you I’m not making that up.”
“I believe you,” Arizona said softly, smoothing her fingers up Callie’s arms. “Wow.”
They fell into a heavy silence, dinner all but forgotten. Callie felt a weight lifted from her shoulders and she studied her girlfriend carefully, trying to read her reaction. She gave her time to process and didn’t push for a response.
Eventually, Arizona stirred from her cloudy revere and met the gentle brown eyes staring back at her. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, baby. I can’t even imagine…”
“I think you have a pretty good idea of what it feels like to be hurt and confused,” Callie pointed out with a light smile. “Different situations, but I’ve been there. It got better, and I’m infinitely grateful that I had a friend to help me realize it was okay to ask for help.”
Arizona couldn’t force down the lump in her throat. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that; sitting in an office with a professional telling me that I’m screwed up. Saying out loud the things I have no idea how to put into words.”
“It’s okay,” Callie said patiently, gathering Arizona in her arms. “I understand. Really, I mean that. You have to be ready to do it for yourself, not just because I asked you to.” She linked hands behind the small of Arizona’s back. “Is it something you would consider doing before stepping back into the ER? For yourself?”
Arizona was still feeling overwhelmed by a lot of things, but Callie’s comforting presence helped her relax as much as she could. “Yes,” she said truthfully, knowing that Callie was absolutely right on a lot of points. The big one for her was that she couldn’t risk a patient’s life if she had an episode during her shift. It would be irresponsible for her to risk it just because she was stubborn and afraid.
“There are other options,” Arizona admitted after a minute or so. She leaned into Callie out of reflex. “I haven’t told you everything, but I have been looking into it. Nothing solid yet, and I promise to tell you when I figure it out. I mean soon too, not an undetermined time and place from now because I don’t want to discuss it. Soon.”
While Callie couldn’t deny that she was curious as to what those options were, she wasn’t going to push when it seemed like Arizona was finally opening up to the idea of outside counselling. “When you’re ready, I’m all ears.”
The quiet and unwavering support she felt from Callie meant the world to Arizona. She leaned into her and burrowed her face against the side of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of shampoo and trace amounts of perfume. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that all alone.”
Callie wrapped her arms around Arizona’s back and squeeze her tightly, allowing her eyes to drift shut. “It’s okay. Neither of us are alone anymore.”
***
July 14th, 2009
Getting herself out of the apartment and downtown took just as much of a mental effort as a physical one - not to mention one very pricey cab ride. What little daylight was left lay hidden behind a curtain of storm clouds, the air scented with the promise of rain and the distant rumble of ominous thunder.
The building in front of Arizona looked rundown and old, like she had been a preteen the last time it was renovated. The thought of going into the basement with a bunch of strangers hardly seemed smart, especially in this area of town.
Hovering in the parking lot for twenty minutes was starting to make her feel like a creep, though. She was too proud to turn around and go back home, not when she knew Callie would be asking questions as to her whereabouts. She had left a note saying she would be home in a few hours so the brunette didn’t worry when she found the apartment empty after work.
It was now or possibly never. If Arizona ran, which was exactly what her gut was telling her to do, she would probably never come back. And she had promised. As fucked up as her life had been for the last eight months, she was a woman of her word.
Swiping a loose chip of gravel with her right crutch, she pulled herself together and started towards the side entrance. She had poorly written directions scribbled on a piece of paper in her left hand, and for a moment she thought she had the wrong location. There was a sign on the door signalling otherwise, however, so she wrenched it open and hobbled through, keeping most of her weight on the crutch. Several days of practicing a support-free walk had her aching and sore, but her stubbornness had only allowed her to bring one along for the ride.
Down one floor and three doors to the left of the elevator, Arizona shouldered her way into a room that reeked of coffee and old donuts. The dim and flickering florescent lights overhead made her feel disjointed and nervous, and she was hovering on the brink of running for it when a hand clamped down on her shoulder. She nearly jumped out of her skin until an older gentleman with kind eyes stepped into her line of view.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, no doubt recognizing her ghost of an expression. “I should have learned by now; this isn’t the place to sneak up on unfamiliar faces.” He held out his hand. “My name is Dan McGoudry, I’m the group leader here. Can I get your name?”
He looked to be in his mid to late fifties and he wore a simple pair of khakis with a button down dress shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves. Several aging scars marred the right side of his forehead and his skin was weathered from years spend under the sun. Arizona was vaguely reminded of an old colleague of her fathers, only this gentleman gave off much more of a friendly vibe.
She shook his hand. “Arizona Robbins. I emailed a few days ago?”
A look of recognition registered. “Right, of course. I’m the only who sent you directions. I’m so happy you decided you could make it, Lieutenant-Commander. It’s a privilege to have you join us.”
Arizona blushed at the formal use of her rank. “Please, just Arizona is fine. My father had everyone including his wife call him ‘The Colonel’ my entire life. I always swore I would never do the same.”
Dan’s demeanour was relaxed and good-natured. “Understandable. I think you’ll find that a lot of service men and women will respect your position, doctor. Some of us wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for others like you.”
Arizona forced herself to smile and ignored the resounding thud in her chest. That was the opposite of how she felt being here - she hadn’t been the one involved in direct fire fights with enemy soldiers. She felt out of place including herself in a group of those who had.
“Please, have a seat,” Dan continued when she didn’t respond. “If you don’t mind me saying, you look exhausted. How is the physical therapy going?”
Arizona was about to ask how he knew that when she realized the crutches, the limp and the reason for being here made it pretty obvious. “Getting better, thanks. Things are slowly improving.”
“Glad to hear it,” Dan replied with a warm smile. “We’re still waiting for a few others to arrive. Can I grab you anything? Coffee? Pastry?”
“No, thank you,” Arizona said politely, casting an apprehensive stare toward the cluster of chairs across the room. A small group of people had already begun to form and she noticed, to her dismay, that so far they were all men. It made her feel even more out of place.
“Everyone gets nervous,” Dan said knowingly. “There’s no pressure to talk if you’re uncomfortable. Listening can prove to be just as cathartic. It took me three weeks before I opened my mouth and I just about had to be carried through the door to begin with.”
When Arizona continued to look like she would be sick with nerves, Dan’s expression softened further. “You made it here, Dr. Robbins. That’s the first step.”
Arizona dug the heel of her crutch into the floor, twisting it against the hard resin. “That obvious it’s my first time, huh?”
“The more meetings you sit through, the more you begin to recognize that everyone has the same look about them,” he replied. “It doesn’t matter what you’ve been through - the nightmares are just as debilitating from one guy to the next. Or gal, of course. Everyone here has been where you are.”
If comradeship was something she was supposed to be feeling, then it had yet to kick in.
“Do you mind if I sit near the back?” Arizona asked weakly.
Dan didn’t appear to make judgements or suggest that she gather in closer. “Of course,” he said quietly, stepping forward and holding out an arm. “Follow me.”
---
Scar Tissue (Part Two)
Chapter 26
Authors: kennedysbitch & livelovelearneg
Beta'd by englishstrawbie
Rating: NC-17 [Depictions of violence, PTSD, Language, Sexual Content]
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Disclaimer
Scar Tissue [masterpost]
Summary: When Arizona Robbins’ brother dies in Iraq, her life takes off in a completely different direction. Now a highly-rated trauma surgeon with the United States Marine Corps, she spends the three years following his death serving their country overseas - until an insurgent attack leaves her with debilitating injuries. Traveling to Seattle at her father’s request, she falls under the care of orthopedic surgeon Dr. Calliope Torres. Damaged emotionally and physically, Arizona tries to start the healing process with the help of a headstrong woman she never saw coming.
Part Two: Now free from the confines of a hospital bed for the first time
in almost five months, Arizona begins her physical and emotional recovery while
navigating a budding yet rocky relationship with Callie Torres.
Warnings: Depictions of violence, PTSD, Language, Sexual Content
Trailer:
Click to view---
“Y’know, for a place that I felt trapped in a few months ago, this isn’t half bad,” Arizona proclaimed as she strolled hand in hand through the hospital with her significant other. They had taken a detour to give Callie a chance to grab her things and change, and now they were enjoying a scenic stroll on their way to the staff exit. Before today, Arizona’s visits had been confined to her private room and the physical therapy gym. This was the first time she had been given a guided tour, showcasing some of the more aesthetic points of the building.
Callie came to a stop on the bridge corridor that overlooked the lobby, resting her forearms on the railing and watching the end-of-shift bustle going on below. “This place has become my second home over the years. You just have to know where the quiet areas are during the day and which bathrooms to avoid, and you’re golden.”
“It’s smaller than Hopkins,” Arizona said thoughtfully, setting her crutches aside before reclining backward against the glass panels. “But it seems cosier; more close-knit. I like it.”
“I knew in my third year of residency that this is where I wanted to work as an attending,” Callie replied. Her focus shifted out the floor-to-ceiling windows and to the snow-capped mountains lining the horizon. “There was always the option of moving back to Miami but Seattle really grew on me after a while.”
“Like a barnacle,” Arizona teased. “I can see how that happened.”
Callie laughed. “Pretty much. I’m glad I stuck around. And that they hired me right after my boards.”
“I don’t know,” Arizona said idly, “if you had gone to Miami General, we could be sunning ourselves on the beach right now.” Earning a surprised stare, she quirked a tiny smile. “I would’ve flown to Mars if that’s where you were stationed, Calliope. Your reputation is a lot bigger than I think you realize.”
That caused Callie to blush. “I’m just glad you weren’t stubborn enough to refuse treatment in the first place,” she chuckled, reaching down and lacing their fingers together. “I probably would’ve ended up with sixteen cats and started living in the basement again if I hadn’t met you.”
Arizona grinned widely and bumped Callie with her shoulder. “And I would’ve turned into the grumpy old hag that the neighbourhood kids make up scary stories about and dare each other to ring the doorbell,” she mused, dropping her eyes to her girlfriend’s mouth.
Callie felt herself being drawn in by Arizona’s magnetic pull, no longer paying the least bit of attention to their surroundings. “Guess we both lucked out then,” she whispered, closing her eyes and tilting her head down for a kiss.
“Dr. Robbins!”
Both women jerked away before their lips could actually touch. Seeing the man she recognized as her father’s long-time acquaintance, Arizona straightened her spine and gave a respectful nod out of habit, dropping Callie’s hand. “Chief Webber, hi.”
Callie instantly paled. “Chief,” she stuttered, her voice cracking up an octave. “Been there long?” The frightened look she shot Arizona clearly read that her boss wasn’t privy to their relationship, at least not to her knowledge. Even though they were no longer doctor and patient, she didn’t want to be thought of as another Izzie Stevens.
Luckily, Webber was distracted by the electronic tablet in his hand and didn’t appear to have noticed their almost-kiss. “I’m trying to get this god-awful machine to let me into the network but I think it’s broken. I can’t access any of my damn charts.”
Doing her best to shed any sort of guilty appearances, Callie reached out. “Can I help?”
Webber passed it over and, sure enough, he had somehow disconnected the device from the intranet, an easy fix that only required the push of a button. Callie, however, was not about to make the Chief of Surgery look like an idiot, so she re-enabled it without a word and spent a few minutes tooling around so it seemed more complicated.
As soon as the iPad was out of his hands, Webber set his sights on Arizona. “It’s great to see you up and walking around, Dr. Robbins. Or should I be calling you Lieutenant?”
Arizona didn’t feel it was necessary to correct him on her proper title. “Doctor is fine,” she said with a friendly smile, shaking his hand. “Dr. Torres here was just showing me around after my latest physical therapy appointment. It’s a beautiful hospital - much nicer when I’m not bed-ridden on the third floor.”
Webber’s laugh was just a little too put-on for it not to be suspicious. “It is a nice hospital, if I do say so myself. The location is spectacular; the staff, spectacular. Research grants are set to flow in at an all-time high next year. The innovative and state-of-the-art technology we use, it’s all very, very…”
“Spectacular?” Arizona suggested when he failed to completely his sentence.
Callie paused in the middle of studying an e-chart to slowly raise her head, staring hard at her boss. He was chomping at the bit and definitely had something up his sleeve, she just couldn’t tell what it was yet.
With both hands folded neatly behind his back, Richard swivelled around to stare across the atrium, practically glowing with pride. “I’ve been here for nearly thirty years and I have to say, this is one of the finest programs in the country. We’ve been ranked at least third overall as a teaching hospital for nearly a decade now. Last year we even moved up into second.”
Callie snorted as she swiped a finger across the touch screen. “Yeah, except this year we dropped all the way down to twel-”
Webber shot her a severe glare that pretty much guaranteed she would be fired if she didn’t stop talking. Callie clamped her mouth shut and immediately lowered her gaze back to the tablet.
“We’re no Hopkins,” the Chief continued, “but I know that with the right staff, we’ll get there sooner rather than later. Derek Shepherd currently heads our Neuro department and Preston Burke built this Cardiothoracic program from the ground up before he left. He’s gone on to win numerous awards based on brilliant techniques he developed while working within our walls. Even Torres here stands a real chance at become a Harper-Avery candidate with her cartilage research, if and when it goes to trial.”
Arizona tilted her head, fixing her girlfriend with a very pointed stare. “Oh she does, does she?” she asked slowly, one eyebrow creeping towards her hairline. “Funny, she failed to mention any such research. Ever.”
Callie shrunk inward as though her leather jacket were a turtle shell, failing in her efforts not to look as guilty as she felt.
“The people that work here do amazing things,” Webber said proudly, pivoting to face Arizona and puffing out his chest. “Which is why, when you’re ready to get back to work, I hope you’ll come and have a chat with me first. We have an opening for the Head of our Trauma department, and given your reputation on the battlefield, I think you would be a perfect fit.”
Even though Webber’s sales pitch had grown painfully obvious to some, Arizona’s eyes still widened in surprise. “You do?” she asked, taken aback with the sudden job offer.
“I can promise you full supervision of a departmental overhaul, as well as funding for new staff and equipment if you deem it necessary,” Webber continued. “I’m sure you’ll have a lot of questions and concerns when the time comes, but for now, try to keep us in mind. I’ll have some paperwork drawn up to give you a better idea of what our offer could look like, and there will be plenty of room for any necessary alterations. The Board and I are very open to working together to make Seattle Grace-Mercy West the Pacific Northwest’s number one trauma destination.”
One would have thought that he was talking about a tropical resort. “Wow. I-I…wow,” Arizona stammered, flustered. “Chief Webber, that’s really…that’s very nice of you, I’m just not sure when-”
“Please, there’s no pressure, no deadline,” Webber cut in, waving a hand as if to dispel any notion of such a thing. “Just something to think about. My office is twenty feet away from where we’re standing now, so you know where to find me when the time comes.”
Arizona peeked around him at the corner office with the big windows. “O-okay. Thank you, sir. This is all - it’s a very generous offer.”
Even though she was hovering on the outskirts of the conversation, Callie could see her boss practically salivating at the prospect of getting a surgeon like Arizona to work for him. She had never seen Richard Webber in ass-kissing mode until now.
Which made it really hard for her not to smirk like a jackass and ruin the moment for Arizona.
“Can I take that to mean you’ll consider us as an option?” Richard asked hopefully, holding out his hand once again.
Arizona looked at it, hesitating for a few seconds before finally clasping his palm with her own. “I’ll think about it,” she confirmed, biting back a grin when he lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Excellent!”
For a moment Arizona was sure that he was going to try and push the conversation about her employment even further. Luckily for them all, he received an incoming page that seemed to be of some importance. Callie handed back his iPad before he could run off empty-handed.
“Well, I’ll leave you ladies to it,” he added, pocketing the pager in his lab coat and at the same time fishing out one of his cards. He extended it towards Arizona. “I hope to hear from you soon, Dr. Robbins. It’s never too early to talk about the future.”
Arizona accepted it and nodded politely, thinking that he sounded like a motivational poster. She half expected that to be a quote on his card. “Thank you, sir.”
She remained rooted in place as he bustled off, mumbling something about her bronze star and exemplary service record, no doubt quoting from sources he had looked up beforehand.
“What just happened?” she asked after a long break, left feeling somewhat confused by the whole thing. Webber had obviously planned this in advance and she definitely hadn’t seen it coming. Today was the first time she had even allowed herself to entertain the idea of going back to work; the timing was kind of conspicuous.
“I think he just tried to seduce you,” Callie replied. “Huh.”
“He really wants me to work here?” Arizona murmured sceptically, staring at his card and turning it over in her hand. “Maybe he’s just trying to meet his ‘affirmative action’ quota or something.”
Callie shot her an exasperated look. “Why wouldn’t he?” she prodded. “You’re a decorated military surgeon, Arizona. And, according to Teddy, one of the best trauma doctors there is. He would be stupid not to want you working for him. He’s probably just trying to get a jump on the competition.”
“I guess I never really thought about it,” Arizona admitted, opening her messenger bag and tucking the business card safely inside one of the pockets. “My whole attending career has been spent out in the field. It’s like I forgot I could actually work somewhere with four walls and air conditioning.”
Callie had to bite back a grin. “You know, it’s…not the worst idea in the world,” she hedged. “You working here. It’s safer, for one thing. And as much as he was kissing your ass, he wasn’t totally over-selling the place. We have a great program, it just needs some fine-tuning after a few rough years economically. Landing you would be like winning the surgical lottery.”
“I seem to remember us having this conversation once before,” Arizona mused, lifting an eyebrow. “I don’t remember it going particularly well.”
“I know, and this time I swear I’m not pushing,” Callie said quickly, looping a thumb beneath her shoulder strap and raising the other hand in defence. “We were a Level One Trauma Center until eight months ago and it’s killing the Chief to be stuck at Level Two. He probably thinks if we hire you to take over, we can get bumped up to a One again.”
“Heading my own program could be kind of fun,” Arizona considered, scrunching her forehead. “I’m sure it wouldn’t take too much effort to get it back up to snuff. This is assuming that I progress to more than a toe-dragging lurch, of course,” she added as an afterthought.
Callie pursed her lips and squinted dangerously. “Hm. Am I sensing some self-doubt creeping in again? You were over the moon for a whole half-hour there.”
“Not doubting, just…keeping it real,” Arizona said, shrugging. “Today was great, but it’s a whole different thing to stand at an OR table for hours on end than it is to walk ten steps across a room. In trauma, you have to be quick on your feet. That could be difficult for me, even in the long run.”
“I have faith that you could make it work if it’s what you really wanted,” Callie said confidently, stepping closer and giving Arizona’s arm a firm squeeze. “Just don’t let his offer put any pressure on your recovery. You have plenty of time to sort it all out and you don’t need to do anything before you’re ready.”
For once, Arizona didn’t feel a single trace of anxiety. “Thank you,” she whispered, echoing her earlier sentiment.
Callie tried to play it cool, even though more butterflies exploded in her abdomen. It felt great to see Arizona so full of confidence again. The last time they’d had a serious conversation about possible career changes, Arizona had yelled and they’d barely spoken for two days. Now she didn’t look bothered at the thought of what her future might hold.
“We should get you home,” Callie added after a moment of quiet reflection. Now that the Chief was gone, she extended her hand and intertwined their fingers. “We have some pretty heavy celebrating to do, if I recall correctly.”
Arizona allowed her to lead the way, too busy thinking about recent developments to pay much attention to the hospital’s architecture. As big as the job offer was, there was also something new she was dying to ask questions about.
***
“So you’re basically growing replacement cartilage in a test tube - from paste. Which is possibly one of the biggest breakthroughs in the field of orthopedics in the last twenty years, and you just…forgot to mention it to me?”
Arizona was totally unimpressed. That much Callie knew for sure.
To her credit, Callie did manage to look slightly guilty for withholding information. “It’s not that simple,” she said through a long breath, fumbling to unlock their apartment door. “Things are complicated right now. It was kind of on hold for a few months while I reworked some of my research and waited for more funding.”
Arizona pursed her lips, unconvinced by the nonchalant attitude. “Callie, why didn’t you tell me? I’m a trauma surgeon; you didn’t think I’d be interested in something like this?”
“No,” Callie argued, then quickly clarified, “I mean, yes. Of course I thought you would be interested, it’s just…you’ve had other things on your plate. A lot of other things. I figured I’d wait until I had more interesting news to share.” They stepped inside and she closed the door behind them.
Arizona drilled holes in the side of Callie’s head with a hard stare. She knew when a topic was being danced around - she was a master of those techniques, after all.
“I wasn’t even sure what my lab time would produce, if anything,” Callie added as she dumped her purse on the couch. “It’s really not a big deal. So far it’s just a bunch of floating mush. And it stinks. Like, badly. You’re not missing out on anything science-y or cool.”
If Callie hadn’t been avoiding eye contact like a bad case of syphilis, Arizona might have taken the bait. “You are allowed to tell me things, you know,” she said cautiously, stepping closer and reaching out to touch her arm. “Just because my leg blew up and I got a little winded at the wharf, doesn’t mean I’m not interested in hearing about your life.”
Callie was silent, so Arizona pushed on. “Believe me, I crave outside influence, especially if it’s you-related. Throw in a cool medical mystery and my ears are all yours, just like the rest of me.”
This time it was Callie who shot Arizona a trying look. “You don’t need to worry about the mundane stuff going on in my work life. You should be concentrating on physical therapy and doing your thing. That’s way, way more important right now.”
Releasing an exasperated sigh, Arizona yanked Callie closer and slid both hands inside her jacket, curving around her sides. “You are my thing, Callie Torres. I want my life to be about you, not prescription dosages or leg presses. Or sleeping until noon on Mondays because I’m unemployed and really, really bored.”
“You love sleeping in on Mondays,” Callie pointed out. “You rub it in every chance you get.”
“Point being,” Arizona continued, ignoring the jab, “you shouldn’t hide things from me when you’re proud of them. I can tell this cartilage stuff excites you and I want to know all about it. So no more keeping secrets, even it’s well-intentioned. Okay?”
Callie grunted under her breath and narrowed her eyes into slits. “You’re very persuasive. Just don’t blame me when my stacks of research papers put you to sleep.”
Arizona smiled and guided her partner into a delicate kiss. “Teddy’s the one that snubs bone stuff in favour of sucking chest wounds,” she murmured. “I love bones. And I love you, so you can bet your next paycheque that I’m gonna love hearing about your findings.”
A part of Callie wasn’t completely sold on the importance of her research in the grand scheme of things, but Arizona’s exuberance was kind of infectious. She couldn’t deny that the prospect of growing cartilage in a lab was electrifying and that the possibilities for future use were astronomical. It had been a while since she’d been able to geek out over it with any of her close friends. None of them cared much about orthopedics.
Arizona’s grin was radiant as she leaned in to invade Callie’s senses. “No more hiding?” she husked, keeping herself at a tantalizingly close distance.
“No more hiding,” Callie promised, wholly distracted by the lips being kept just barely out of reach. She probably would have agreed to go bungee jumping without a second a thought if Arizona kept this up.
Just as they began to indulge themselves in an explorative kiss, Arizona felt the cell phone in Callie’s pocket start to vibrate. When it didn’t go away, she sighed against the mouth currently mingling with hers. “You should probably get that,” she relented, breaking apart. “I’ll get dinner started.”
Pouting, Callie released her hold and took out the phone. “Be careful with your leg,” she called after Arizona, who had ditched one of her crutches and hobbled away with only the right side remaining for support. There was little doubt in Callie’s mind that Arizona would probably crash hard tonight after a long afternoon in physical therapy.
“Torres?”
Mark’s voice on the other line pulled her attention back to the call. “Mark! Hey, sorry, I didn’t look at the call display first. How are you?”
“Very hot,” Mark said flatly. “It’s a hundred degrees in New York. But I did just get a hair cut and look exquisitely debonair, if you catch my drift.”
Callie rolled her eyes and flopped down on the couch, kicking her legs onto the coffee table. “We both know your head looks like a feather duster when it’s humid.”
The insult did nothing to dissuade Mark from a little harmless flirting. “I distinctly remember you using it as handlebars when it meant you could shove my head in between your-”
“Okay,” Callie cut him off, casting a quick glance at Arizona in the kitchen, exponentially glad that she hadn’t put Mark on speaker phone. “Cut to the chase, you perv. What’s up?”
“Guess who I ran into today?”
“Another illegitimate child?”
Mark growled. “Funny. No, I met your girlfriend’s father.”
Callie lurched upright, nearly knocking over a day-old glass of water that was sitting stagnant by her foot. “What?” she shrilled. Arizona shot an inquisitive look over the breakfast bar and Callie plastered a quick smile on her face. “I mean…when? Where?” she asked more calmly.
Mark’s husky laugh reverberated down the line. “New York Pres is sponsoring some pro bono reconstructive surgeries for injured vets. He’s in town to speak with returning troops. I caught his name when I was in the boardroom stealing free donuts. It’s a big PR thing for both sides, apparently.”
“What did you say to him?” Callie peeked at Arizona a second time, attempting to remain inconspicuous while watching her chop vegetables.
“Nothing about you and Robbins specifically,” Mark replied. “Just that I recognized his name and met her when she was being treated.”
“What did he say?”
This time Mark hesitated. “He’s not the most talkative guy I’ve ever met. He was a little…intense.”
Callie knew that was his version of ‘scary’. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to feel jealous or anxious that her best friend had met her Arizona’s father before she did. “Huh. That’s so random. I don’t even think she knew he was out there.”
“I don’t get the sense that there’s a whole lot of father-daughter bonding going on between them,” Mark agreed. “Anyway, how’s she doin’? You two get down and dirty yet?”
Callie flushed red in the face. “Maybe.” She could practically hear him smirking from all the way across the country. “It’s been good. We’re really good. She actually got cornered by Webber and talked into an interview earlier. He acted more like he would be the one trying to woo her for the job, too.”
“For the trauma centre?” he asked. “And she’s okay with that?”
“Yeah, of course she is,” Callie said slowly, furrowing her brow at the scepticism in his voice.
“Huh. That’s a little…surprising.”
“Really? Why?” Callie glanced at Arizona again, catching her eye. “It’s Mark,” she mouthed.
“I don’t know,” Mark replied a bit awkwardly. “I’m just surprised you sound so calm about the idea. You said that she’s been through some pretty rough stuff lately and I assumed a trauma room would be counter-productive.”
For the first time since Webber’s intervention, Callie frowned. She hadn’t really thought about it that way; at least, not since the conversation with her boss took place less than an hour ago. Arizona had seemed so happy at the prospect of working again that Callie was caught up in the moment. Now her fears from several months ago came trickling back in.
“It’s not a terrible idea,” Mark continued when Callie said nothing. “Hell, what do I know? You guys keep that stuff private and I get it. You’ve said it before yourself, though, a trauma room doesn’t exactly sound like the healthiest atmosphere for someone in her shoes.”
“Yeah,” Callie said faintly, sinking back into the couch. She hated the sudden doubt that had flooded her system, but Mark had just knocked down a wall she had temporarily forgotten about in the rush of excitement. She wanted to be happy for Arizona - taking her first solo steps and realizing that she was still a hot commodity in the surgical world were pretty momentous things.
“Cal?”
Callie shook her head and focused back on the conversation. “Sorry; we’re trying to make dinner. How about I give you a call later tonight?”
Mark took the hint. “Sounds good. Say hi to Legs for me - and tell her I’m impressed that she didn’t turn out to be a heat-seeking cyborg like her father.”
Callie rolled her eyes at Mark’s affectionate nickname for Arizona. Not that she could blame him - despite the blast injuries, they were both in agreement that her girlfriend had fantastic legs. Callie whole-heartedly agreed even more now that she had been up close and personal with them in recent weeks.
Saying her goodbyes and hanging up, she stared absently at the phone, leaning forward to slide it onto the table.
“How’s Mark?”
She looked up and met the curious blue eyes aimed her way. “He’s good. Busy with pro bono work. Actually, speaking of…”
She pushed herself up, discarding her jacket in the process, and shuffled her way into the kitchen. “He kind of met your dad today.”
Arizona nearly chopped her pinkie finger off with the veggie knife. “What?!”
Callie quickly pulled the weapon out of her girlfriend’s hand and set it beside the cutting board before it could do any damage. “It was brief, but I guess your father was at some sort of veteran’s fundraiser in New York and Mark met him while the organizers were discussing donated surgical time. Sounds like it was totally random, he just happened to recognize your last name when it came up.”
Arizona seemed kind of shaken by the mention of her father. “Oh.”
Waiting for more questions, Callie raised an eyebrow when they didn’t come. “He said your dad is kind of intense. That’s Mark-speak for ‘terrifying’.”
Arizona smiled ruefully, taking a moment to gather herself before picking up the knife again. “That’s one way to describe him,” she muttered, focusing her attention on the red pepper that needed to be cut up.
Callie already knew that Arizona’s parents were a sore spot and the last thing she wanted to do was put a damper on what had been such a successful day. She voluntarily changed the subject.
“Anyway, Mark says hi. He thought it was cool that Webber offered you the job.”
At the mention of the day’s most recent development, a smile worked its way across Arizona’s lips. “Yeah, that was pretty neat, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” Callie said, forcing herself to sound more enthusiastic than she felt. It wasn’t that she had changed their mind about the two of them working together - that continued to be a brilliant idea in her mind - she was just suddenly feeling the weight of Mark’s astute observation.
Working in trauma was Arizona’s calling, the blonde had made that very clear to Callie early on. Yet the more Callie thought about it, the more she pictured the terrified look on her girlfriend’s face during flashbacks and the horrific panic attacks that followed. The idea of that happening at work was unimaginable.
“Do you think…” Callie trailed off, reworking her thoughts. “I know that you still have a way to go, and I’m one-hundred percent behind you working in the same hospital as me, but I’m just…I guess I’m a little worried. About you, and t-the nightmares, the flashbacks. Do you think jumping into a trauma situation might be a bad idea? At least, for now?”
Arizona froze mid-chop, turning her head to stare at Callie. “What brought this on? You were on board ten minutes ago.”
“I am on board,” Callie said hurriedly, dropping her gaze and bending over to dig out a giant frying pan from the cupboard. “I think you could really enjoy working there. I’m cautious, that’s all. You’ve come so far, been through so much, but you also still have those nightmares. And stuff like at the wharf, where you get…startled.”
Arizona tensed. It took some effort to close her eyes and pull in a deep breath, reminding herself that Callie was only being a concerned partner. “I know,” she said carefully, making sure to keep her tone neutral. “I haven’t exactly forgotten about my situation. I know what my limits are.”
Callie hovered by the stove, staring blankly at the appliance. “Do you?” she asked quietly, afraid of how harsh of an answer she might receive.
Arizona set down the knife again and wiped her hands on a tea towel, turning around and leaning against the counter. While her initial reaction was to snap that yes, she was ready for this, ready to take back control in her life, she was aware of her temper and the tendency to take it out on those close to her. She knew Callie was only speaking out of love.
“I guess I didn’t think about it too much,” she relented after a long pause. “The idea doesn’t fill me with dread, though. Not like it did before.”
Callie glanced over her shoulder and tweaked up the corners of her mouth. “Yeah?”
Arizona smiled shakily, too. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Today was just a baby step, but it helped me realize that I’m allowed to want more. I’m allowed to start thinking about things beyond a day at a time. For a while, I wouldn’t let myself do that. I was too afraid of what would happen if I failed.”
When her frozen muscles started to move again, Callie poured cooking oil into the pan and turned the element on. “I’m glad,” she said earnestly. “You deserve to get everything you want. I want that for you, too.”
Arizona felt herself beginning to relax and she hop-stepped forward, resting her hip against the counter next to the stove, facing her girlfriend. “I know that first and foremost, I want you,” she murmured, reaching out to trail her fingers along Callie’s spine. “As for the rest - I have options and time to think about it all. I haven’t made any decisions yet.”
Callie continued to stare into the frying pan, watching as the oil started to ripple. She looked contemplative, shivering at the gentle touch.
There were a lot of things to consider when it came to what was and wasn’t a healthy environment for someone with reoccurring post-traumatic symptoms. Callie was getting the feeling that Arizona was avoiding focusing on the bigger problems that had been plaguing her over the course of the last few weeks. Not that Callie could blame her - harping on the bad was a terrible way to live, especially when the good things were finally starting to come in bigger numbers.
“Have you thought any more about talking to someone?” she asked carefully, tipping the vegetables into the pan and stirring them around with a wooden spoon. The hiss that filled the air as they sautéed served as a steadying background noise.
Arizona’s hand stilled. She released a frustrated breath, tired of the repeat subject, but mindful of her girlfriend’s legitimate worries. “Not really,” she admitted.
Callie briefly closed her eyes before fixing them on Arizona again. “You still have the nightmares. Not every night, but they’re there. I don’t know if you always remember, and I don’t really bring it up in the mornings-”
“I know when they happen,” Arizona cut in, staring absently at the cuff of Callie’s sleeve and playing with the material between her fingers. “I remember sometimes. Not necessarily the details, but I can tell when I wake up feeling like I got hit by a bus. At least the nosebleeds have stopped for now.”
Most nights, Callie was able to shake Arizona gently and whispered in her ear until she settled, and that was that. A few times, however, Arizona had awoken in a panic and taken some extra coaxing to get back to sleep. It could be tiring for Callie, too, but she would much rather wake up and prevent these things from getting worse than sleep through the events herself.
“I love you,” she stated over the sizzling of the vegetables. “I want you to be happy. Whatever you end up doing, I’ll support you a thousand percent. But I do think this is something you need to consider before jumping back into a potentially difficult situation.”
“You think I don’t take it seriously?” Arizona asked, arching a brow.
“I think that the idea of talking to someone about what you went through still scares you,” Callie said, staring hard at the stove. “I also think that being submerged in a busy trauma centre could be a potential trigger. You never know what you might see.”
Arizona chewed on her bottom lip and contemplated things. “I’ve thought about that once or twice. What it would be like to jump right back in. It’s different; the kinds of injuries you see in the city aren’t the same as the ones you get out there.”
“But the trauma is,” Callie pointed out. “The pain, the death; victims and their families. Those kinds of things are universal. I would worry about you getting hit with a reminder and it catching you by surprise.”
Arizona’s stomach twisted into knots, though not as awful and crippling as they had been in the past. Thinking about potential triggers didn’t send her into the fetal position or bring on a panic attack, which was good to know. She still couldn’t focus too deeply on the things that haunted her when she closed her eyes - the ones she could visually decipher and the others that were only horrific in feeling.
“The idea of going to therapy…” Arizona trailed off, watching Callie cook. “I know it’s exactly what I would suggest if I were on the other side. If it was you, or someone else I cared about. It makes sense, it just doesn’t feel right. At least, not the psychiatrist thing. I can’t really explain it.”
“I know what you mean,” Callie whispered, her hands beginning to shake as she nearly flicked a bell pepper chunk right out of the pan. She closed her eyes and inhaled a wavering breath, hoping that Arizona couldn’t see how ridiculously nervous she was all of a sudden.
“I don’t know if you do,” Arizona continued. “It just sounds like I’m being stubborn. Explaining what I went through, the explosion and some of the awful things before that even happened - it’s not easy to talk about. If I could tell you, I would, but thinking about it physically hurts. I don’t know why, it just does. Spilling my guts to a stranger seems impossible when I can’t even tell the woman I’m involved with.”
“I really do get it,” Callie hedged, sneaking a quick look at her partner. She steadied herself for the words that would come next, something she had never told anyone before. “I saw the hospital psychiatrist a little less than two years ago. Twice a week for a couple of months.”
Arizona straightened her posture, surprised at the new revelation. “You did?”
“Yes, I did.” Callie licked her lips, hating how badly her arms were shaking. She didn’t want to make this about her when it was supposed to be about Arizona. If this information could help her with her decision, though, then it was worth sharing.
Inhaling deeply through her nose, Callie set the wooden spoon down and turned to meet Arizona’s gaze directly. “I had a miscarriage a little while ago, near the end of my first trimester.”
Arizona was visibly shell shocked. “You…y-you did?”
Callie nodded. “I did. It was when George and I…we were trying, but then he cheated on me and we separated. I found out about a month after, while he was still seeing Izzie Stevens.”
The quietness in their kitchen was only ruptured by a loud ‘pop’ as a red pepper exploded. Callie removed the pan from the element and turned it off before facing Arizona again, crossing her arms loosely over her stomach.
“Things were so utterly and completely screwed up between George and me that I didn’t even know if I could tell him. By then I just wanted a divorce, to cut my losses and flee. It felt like he had sliced my dignity to shreds. I was embarrassed; everyone in the hospital knew he was screwing around with Stevens behind my back. By the time I realized that I wanted to be a mom, even without a husband, I lost the baby. It was awful.”
Arizona hardly knew what to say to that. She took the brunette’s hands in her own and gave them a supportive squeeze. “Callie…”
“No, it’s okay,” Callie said quickly, mustering up a brave smile. “Really, it is. I’m not telling you this to compare personal pain or anything. I just wanted you to know that I felt the same way - I did not want to talk about it. Ever. But burying my pain and pretending that nothing had happened only made things worse. I stopped sleeping, I barely ate, and I got really sick. It took Mark to get me to see that I was hurting myself and make me realize that I had to confront it. I never told him why, I think he just assumed it was the divorce and the humiliation. But I reluctantly agreed to talk to the staff psychiatrist, and it helped. It really helped, Arizona, I promise you I’m not making that up.”
“I believe you,” Arizona said softly, smoothing her fingers up Callie’s arms. “Wow.”
They fell into a heavy silence, dinner all but forgotten. Callie felt a weight lifted from her shoulders and she studied her girlfriend carefully, trying to read her reaction. She gave her time to process and didn’t push for a response.
Eventually, Arizona stirred from her cloudy revere and met the gentle brown eyes staring back at her. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, baby. I can’t even imagine…”
“I think you have a pretty good idea of what it feels like to be hurt and confused,” Callie pointed out with a light smile. “Different situations, but I’ve been there. It got better, and I’m infinitely grateful that I had a friend to help me realize it was okay to ask for help.”
Arizona couldn’t force down the lump in her throat. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that; sitting in an office with a professional telling me that I’m screwed up. Saying out loud the things I have no idea how to put into words.”
“It’s okay,” Callie said patiently, gathering Arizona in her arms. “I understand. Really, I mean that. You have to be ready to do it for yourself, not just because I asked you to.” She linked hands behind the small of Arizona’s back. “Is it something you would consider doing before stepping back into the ER? For yourself?”
Arizona was still feeling overwhelmed by a lot of things, but Callie’s comforting presence helped her relax as much as she could. “Yes,” she said truthfully, knowing that Callie was absolutely right on a lot of points. The big one for her was that she couldn’t risk a patient’s life if she had an episode during her shift. It would be irresponsible for her to risk it just because she was stubborn and afraid.
“There are other options,” Arizona admitted after a minute or so. She leaned into Callie out of reflex. “I haven’t told you everything, but I have been looking into it. Nothing solid yet, and I promise to tell you when I figure it out. I mean soon too, not an undetermined time and place from now because I don’t want to discuss it. Soon.”
While Callie couldn’t deny that she was curious as to what those options were, she wasn’t going to push when it seemed like Arizona was finally opening up to the idea of outside counselling. “When you’re ready, I’m all ears.”
The quiet and unwavering support she felt from Callie meant the world to Arizona. She leaned into her and burrowed her face against the side of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of shampoo and trace amounts of perfume. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that all alone.”
Callie wrapped her arms around Arizona’s back and squeeze her tightly, allowing her eyes to drift shut. “It’s okay. Neither of us are alone anymore.”
***
July 14th, 2009
Getting herself out of the apartment and downtown took just as much of a mental effort as a physical one - not to mention one very pricey cab ride. What little daylight was left lay hidden behind a curtain of storm clouds, the air scented with the promise of rain and the distant rumble of ominous thunder.
The building in front of Arizona looked rundown and old, like she had been a preteen the last time it was renovated. The thought of going into the basement with a bunch of strangers hardly seemed smart, especially in this area of town.
Hovering in the parking lot for twenty minutes was starting to make her feel like a creep, though. She was too proud to turn around and go back home, not when she knew Callie would be asking questions as to her whereabouts. She had left a note saying she would be home in a few hours so the brunette didn’t worry when she found the apartment empty after work.
It was now or possibly never. If Arizona ran, which was exactly what her gut was telling her to do, she would probably never come back. And she had promised. As fucked up as her life had been for the last eight months, she was a woman of her word.
Swiping a loose chip of gravel with her right crutch, she pulled herself together and started towards the side entrance. She had poorly written directions scribbled on a piece of paper in her left hand, and for a moment she thought she had the wrong location. There was a sign on the door signalling otherwise, however, so she wrenched it open and hobbled through, keeping most of her weight on the crutch. Several days of practicing a support-free walk had her aching and sore, but her stubbornness had only allowed her to bring one along for the ride.
Down one floor and three doors to the left of the elevator, Arizona shouldered her way into a room that reeked of coffee and old donuts. The dim and flickering florescent lights overhead made her feel disjointed and nervous, and she was hovering on the brink of running for it when a hand clamped down on her shoulder. She nearly jumped out of her skin until an older gentleman with kind eyes stepped into her line of view.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, no doubt recognizing her ghost of an expression. “I should have learned by now; this isn’t the place to sneak up on unfamiliar faces.” He held out his hand. “My name is Dan McGoudry, I’m the group leader here. Can I get your name?”
He looked to be in his mid to late fifties and he wore a simple pair of khakis with a button down dress shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves. Several aging scars marred the right side of his forehead and his skin was weathered from years spend under the sun. Arizona was vaguely reminded of an old colleague of her fathers, only this gentleman gave off much more of a friendly vibe.
She shook his hand. “Arizona Robbins. I emailed a few days ago?”
A look of recognition registered. “Right, of course. I’m the only who sent you directions. I’m so happy you decided you could make it, Lieutenant-Commander. It’s a privilege to have you join us.”
Arizona blushed at the formal use of her rank. “Please, just Arizona is fine. My father had everyone including his wife call him ‘The Colonel’ my entire life. I always swore I would never do the same.”
Dan’s demeanour was relaxed and good-natured. “Understandable. I think you’ll find that a lot of service men and women will respect your position, doctor. Some of us wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for others like you.”
Arizona forced herself to smile and ignored the resounding thud in her chest. That was the opposite of how she felt being here - she hadn’t been the one involved in direct fire fights with enemy soldiers. She felt out of place including herself in a group of those who had.
“Please, have a seat,” Dan continued when she didn’t respond. “If you don’t mind me saying, you look exhausted. How is the physical therapy going?”
Arizona was about to ask how he knew that when she realized the crutches, the limp and the reason for being here made it pretty obvious. “Getting better, thanks. Things are slowly improving.”
“Glad to hear it,” Dan replied with a warm smile. “We’re still waiting for a few others to arrive. Can I grab you anything? Coffee? Pastry?”
“No, thank you,” Arizona said politely, casting an apprehensive stare toward the cluster of chairs across the room. A small group of people had already begun to form and she noticed, to her dismay, that so far they were all men. It made her feel even more out of place.
“Everyone gets nervous,” Dan said knowingly. “There’s no pressure to talk if you’re uncomfortable. Listening can prove to be just as cathartic. It took me three weeks before I opened my mouth and I just about had to be carried through the door to begin with.”
When Arizona continued to look like she would be sick with nerves, Dan’s expression softened further. “You made it here, Dr. Robbins. That’s the first step.”
Arizona dug the heel of her crutch into the floor, twisting it against the hard resin. “That obvious it’s my first time, huh?”
“The more meetings you sit through, the more you begin to recognize that everyone has the same look about them,” he replied. “It doesn’t matter what you’ve been through - the nightmares are just as debilitating from one guy to the next. Or gal, of course. Everyone here has been where you are.”
If comradeship was something she was supposed to be feeling, then it had yet to kick in.
“Do you mind if I sit near the back?” Arizona asked weakly.
Dan didn’t appear to make judgements or suggest that she gather in closer. “Of course,” he said quietly, stepping forward and holding out an arm. “Follow me.”
---