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Chapter Text

The pediatric floor of Seattle Grace Mercy West was a world of its own - a space designed to be a sanctuary where sick children resided needing medical attention and their parents worrying in the background. It is a place where the weight of sickness and suffering was cushioned by bright colors, laughter, and the gentle, careful hands of doctors who spoke in soft voices and wielded stethoscopes like magic wands But today, the air in the ward was thick with something else, something that an experienced doctor like Arizona Robbins didn’t even recognize.

It wasn’t fear - not the kind she was used to anyway. She had seen fear in the eyes of the parents when she delivered devastating news. She had seen the trembling hands of first-year residents performing their solo procedures. Fear was familiar. Manageable.

This was different.

It was crackling, electric unease that settled in the halls, whispering under fluorescent lights. There was an absence of the controlled chaos, of pagers beeping through codes, traumas, and mass casualty incidents. The usual hum of life that filled the pediatric floor had been replaced with something far more insidious. A quiet that didn’t soothe, but suffocated.

The lockdown had turned the hospital into a warzone. And Arizona didn’t do warzones. She was warm. She is a healer. But today, none of them had a choice. They were supposed to be preparing her for surgery, but they not, with the hospital in lockdown, the OR doors might as well have been miles away.

Arizona swallowed hard and turned her attention back to Ruby Kendall, the five-year-old curled up in the hospital bed. The little girl was pale, her forehead damp with sweat, her tiny fingers curling into the thin hospital blanket. Her appendicitis had left her fragile and vulnerable. She glanced over to Callie, who was working just as tirelessly to keep the children safe. Arizona was trying- but failing- to avoid her. It was impossible not to feel her presence, even in the middle of the chaos. The tension between them had been a low, simmering thing ever since their breakup and their moment in the elevator, but today, with the walls of the hospital closing in, with danger lurking around the corner, it was harder to keep her guard up. Harder to pretend Callie wasn’t still a part of her life.

She tried to focus on the task at hand, gripping the bed rails as she pushed Ruby’s gurney down the hall, her heart thudding in time with the squeaking of the wheels against the linoleum floor. Arizona pushed Ruby’s gurney into a dimly lit room, the overhead fluorescents casting a sterile glow against the pale blue walls. Arizona pressed the back of her hand to Ruby’s forehead, her palm burning against the fevered skin.

“She’s burning up,” she muttered, adjusting the IV drip. “Her appendix could rupture in any minute now, if we don’t get her to an OR soon, she could go septic.”

Callie, who was just coming back from leaving an injured child in a pediatric ward with all the other children, came closer to the bed, arms crossed over her chest. She exhaled ”Yeah, well, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re in lockdown, and last I checked, bullets don’t do much for post-op recovery.”

Arizona shot her a look. “Not really the time for sarcasm, Callie.”

Callie rubbed a hand over her face. “I know,” she admitted, her voice lowered now so Arizona could be the only one to hear her, “I just- this kid is getting worse by the second, and we’re stuck here with no backup and a lunatic wandering the halls.”

Arizona nodded, adjusting Ruby’s blanket. “I know,” she murmured.”I know”

Then Ruby’s whimpering increased in volume as she shifted restlessly in bed, her tiny fingers tightening around her stomach. “Mommy… I want my Mommy!”

Callie reached out to grab Ruby’s tiny hand and ran her thumb gently over Ruby’s knuckles. “She’ll come for you, don't worry sweetie,” she said softly, reassuring the young girl. “We just have to wait a little longer.”

Arizona watched the moment silently, her heart swelling at the sight. She loved seeing Callie like this-soft, patient, endlessly comforting. It was part of what had drawn her to Callie in the first place, the way she could make someone feel safe with her words, a steady touch. Callie glanced up at her then, just for a second, and for the first time in what felt like forever, they weren’t fighting. They weren’t avoiding each other. They were just here, two doctors, two people who had once been everything to each other, trying to keep a little girl alive.

Ruby let out a sudden, sharp cry, her tiny fingers digging into Callie’s hand as fresh tears welled up in her eyes. Her small body curled inward, instinctively trying to shield itself from the pain radiating from her abdomen.

“Ow, ow! It hurts!!” she whimpered, her voice breaking into a full sob.

Arizona was already moving, her hands checking the rigidity of Ruby’s abdomen. Her stomach was distended, the pain in Ruby’s expression unmistakable.

“Dammit,” muttered Arizona under her breath. She turned towards the hallway and spotted an intern rushing past, her expression tight with caution.

“You!” she called out sharply. The young woman skidded to a stop, eyes wide. “I need an ultrasound machine. Now.”

The intern hesitated for a split second, clearly overwhelmed with all the events happening, but the sheer authority in Arizona’s voice sent him running down the hall without another word.

Callie smoothed Ruby’s damp curls back from her forehead, her jaw clenched. “We don’t have time for this. She’s getting worse by the second.” Overwhelmed at the thought that her young patient may have a ruptured appendix without any access to an OR, Arizona let out a frustrated breath. “No kidding, Callie. You think I don’t know that?”

Callie met her gaze with an edge, searching Arizona’s face.

“I think you’re panicking instead of focusing. You do that when things get hard and don’t go according to plan.”

Shooting her with a glare, Arizona answered Callie passive-aggressively, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize we were doing this now. Right here. With a five-year-old in crisis!”

Callie scoffed. “You started it!”

Before Arizona could fire back, the intern rushed back into the hallway where they were, dragging the ultrasound machine behind her. “Dr. Robbins!” she called out breathlessly. Arizona quickly grabbed the probe, squeezing gel on Ruby’s stomach with steady hands despite the chaos raging inside her. The screen flickered to life, and the second Arizona saw the black void in Ruby’s abdomen, her stomach dropped.

“Her appendix ruptured,” she said, her voice tight. She swallowed hard glancing up at Callie. “She’s becoming septic.”

Leaning over, Callie pushed Ruby’s hair back from her sweaty forehead, her expression dark with determination. “She needs surgery, now.”

Not helping it, Arizona, let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah? And where exactly do you suggest we do that, Callie? We’re in lockdown. The OR might as well be on the moon!”

“No wait,” Callie set her jaw, her eyes anxiously wandering around, trying to think fast. Then her eyes flicked towards a door. Her eyes opened widely, as the idea struck her, “The empty peds room,” she said suddenly.

“What?” Arizona stared at her.

Callie turned to her fully, urgency sparking behind her eyes. “We find an empty room, clear a table, and do it there. It’s not ideal, but it’s all we got. Since we can’t get her to an OR, we can bring the OR to her.”

Shaking her head slowly, Arizona looked at Callie like she was crazy. “No way. We don’t have the right tools, no sterile field, no backup if something goes wrong-” Sensing her panic, Callie cut her off quietly so Ruby wouldn’t hear her next words, “If we don’t do something now, she’ll die!”

That single word hung in the air between them. They both have to do something right now before the very idea of a dead little girl became reality even if the circumstances are far from ideal.

Arizona looked down at Ruby, at the fever burning in her cheeks and the tears seeping from the corners of her eyes. Then, she exhaled and nodded. “Fine,” she gravely said, already pushing Ruby’s bed into an empty peds room. “Let’s save her.”

The wheels of Ruby’s hospital bed squeaked against the linoleum as Arizona and Callie maneuvered her into the empty pediatric exam room. The space was dimly lit, the overhead fluorescents flickering slightly, casting eerie shadows against the pale blue walls. The colorful murals of cartoon animals and floating balloons that usually brightened the space felt hauntingly out of place against the tense reality of their situation.

Callie shut the door behind them, pressing her back against it for a second, as if trying to catch her breath, reeling at the prospect of their situation. On the other side of the room, Arizona locked the wheel of the bed and reached for a supply cabinet.

“We need to work fast,” Arizona said, her voice tight as she rifled through the drawers, pulling out anything remotely useful such as sterile gloves, gauze, betadine, surgical tools, whatever she could find. “We don’t have anesthesia, proper sterilization, suction, and we’re improvising an OR in a glorified playroom, so this needs to be as perfect as it can be.”

She paused watching Callie searching around the room for other supplies that would need to be used. “This is insane, completely wildly insane.”

Callie didn’t look at her. “It’s what we have,” her voice sharply cutting through, “Or do you want to stand there and freak out, or do you want to save her life.”

Arizona's gaze snapped up, anger flickering in her blue eyes. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like I don’t care. Like I’m not trying.”

“Then stop hesitating,” Callie stilled, gripping the edge of a counter. Her voice was quieter now but just as firm. “We don’t have enough time for second-guessing.”

Not believing Callie’s tone and words, Arizona while putting on gloves, shook her head and shot back, “God, you are unbelievable. You always do this - you push and push like you know everything like you have all the answers. Well newsflash, Callie, sometimes there are no good answers!”

Callie’s jaw clenched. “And sometimes you have to make a choice anyway.”

Their eyes locked, a silent war waging between them. The past bled into the present–hurt layered on top of hurt, resentment tangled with grief. The echoes of old fights, the ghosts of everything unsaid, hovered in the space between them. And yet, beneath all of it, there was something else. Something raw. Something neither of them wanted to name. Despite that feeling, Callie moved closer, “You know, I’m not the bad guy here,” she muttered under her breath.

Arizona stilled for a beat before looking up. “Excuse me?”

Callie’s gaze flickered to her. “You think I wanted this? That I wanted to fight about kids, about us, about everything?” She shook her head, her fingers tightening around a scalpel she had just unwrapped. “I tried Arizona. I tried to be enough for you.”

“Enough for me? You—” Arizona exhaled sharply, forcing herself to stay focused as she prepped Ruby’s IV, but the words were spilling out now, direct and unfiltered. “You blindsided me, Callie. You made me feel like I wasn’t enough because I didn’t want what you wanted.”

Callie’s hands stilled on the tray of instruments. “That’s not fair.”

“No?” Arizona huffed, glancing up at her. “You spent weeks resenting me for not wanting kids and then, just like that, you were suddenly okay with it? You woke up one day and decided you could just erase that part of yourself?”

Callie’s face darkened while looking straight into Arizona's blue eyes . “I was trying to keep you in my life.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Arizona swallowed hard, her hands shaking slightly as she adjusted Ruby’s IV flow.

Rubbing a hand over her face, Callie tiredly sighed. “I didn’t want to lose you,” she quietly admitted, looking off to the side while hurriedly working with the surgical materials in her hands. “But I did anyway.”

Arizona’s throat tightened. She opened her mouth to respond, to say something, anything but a whimper from the bed shattered the moment. Ruby’s tiny fingers clutched weakly at the sheets, her face contorted in pain. The fever was really getting to her as her breaths were becoming shallower and uneven. Arizona tore her gaze from Callie, her focus snapping back to the girl who needed her.

The fight would have to wait. Arizona exhaled shakily, pressing her fingers against the small vial of lidocaine that she found before drawing a syringe. “Ruby, sweetie, this is going to sting, but it won’t last too long,” she said to the little girl in a caring voice as she gently swabbed her skin with alcohol.

Trying to keep her emotions in check, Callie watched the scene by the bedside and saw how terrified Ruby was. She went up to her and held her small hand, “Don't worry. I’ll hold her steady.”

A small nod was Arizona’s only response as she slid the needle in, injecting local anesthetic with experienced precision. Callie’s grip on Ruby’s small wrist was firm but careful, her thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles against her feverish skin. “You’re doing great, honey,” she murmured. “Almost done.”

For a moment, it was just the quiet hum of their work. Callie grabbed an oxygen mask and pressed it gently over Ruby’s face, adjusting the flow as best as she could while watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest. She glanced over for a moment at Arizona as she tried to steady her hands. Then Callie broke the silence, her voice coming out as a mutter, “You’re shaking.”

“I am focused,” she sharply said, but there was something underneath it, a crack of fear and vulnerability as she tried to suppress it the best she could for her patient. The best she could do was show her frustration to Callie. “But forgive me if performing emergency surgery in a daycare isn’t exactly in my wheelhouse.”

Callie sighed, softer this time, sensing Arizona’s crumbling demeanor. Anyone in this situation would have been absolutely petrified out of their minds. Without thinking, she reached out wrapping her fingers around Arizona’s wrist, stilling the tremor in her hands. Surprised by the touch, Arizona inhaled sharply. She looked up and saw that Callie’s eyes weren’t filled with frustration and anger, they were filled with understanding and a calm comfort.

Squeezing Arizona’s hand, Callie said quietly with a tiny smile, “You’ve got this, Arizona. You’re the best pediatric surgeon in the world.”

A shaky breath left Arizona’s lips as she allowed the moment to settle between them. The warmth of Callie’s hand was grounding, something solid to cling to amidst the chaos swirling around them. She felt the pressure of the surgery, the shooting happening outside the walls of the room they were in, and even the weight of their fractured relationship pressing down on her. She didn’t want the pressure getting into her head which could crushingly lead to a wrong move that could cost the life of the child in front of her. But Callie was right. She could do this. Steeling herself, she gave a small nod before slipping her hand from Callie’s grasp and refocusing on Ruby. The little girl whimpered softly, barely conscious as the oxygen mask fogged slightly with each uneven breath, a stark reminder that time was slipping through their fingers.

Callie didn’t step away, didn’t retreat back into the guarded distance they had both been keeping. Instead, she stayed close, moving with practiced ease as she put on sterile gloves and began to position the instruments Arizona needed within reach for the procedure. A scalpel, forceps, sutures—everything they would need to stabilize Ruby long enough to get her real help.

The air in the room felt suffocating still, thick with the unspoken words neither of them could afford to say right now. There was too much history between them, too many wounds still raw and unhealed, but at this moment, none of it mattered more than the tiny life in front of them. With a deep inhale, Arizona adjusted the angle of the bed and met Callie’s gaze. “I’m making the incision,” she murmured, voice steady now, hands finally sure as they moved.

Callie nodded, shifting her position to keep Ruby as still as possible. “I’ve got her.”

The scalpel met skin with precise, measured pressure, the blade slicing cleanly through the inflamed tissue. A rush of warmth spread across Arizona’s gloves as blood pooled at the edges of the wound, but she didn’t hesitate. With swift, practiced motions, she used gauze to blot the excess, clearing her field of vision as she worked.

Every breath felt synchronized, every movement between them fluid and instinctual. It was muscle memory—the way they worked together, the way they read each other without words. No matter how much anger or pain had built between them over the years, they had always been good in moments like this.

The seconds stretched, turning into minutes, but Arizona remained unwavering. Her fingers moved with confidence, isolating the infection, draining the abscess, and meticulously sealing the wound with sutures.

When the last stitch was secured, Arizona let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Carefully, she peeled off her gloves, her fingers stiff from tension, and pressed a gentle hand against Ruby’s arm. “It’s done,” she whispered, almost in disbelief.

Callie, who had been holding her own breath, exhaled in relief. “You did it,” she murmured, adjusting the oxygen flow before brushing damp curls from Ruby’s forehead. “She’s stable.” The swelling had already started to ease, and the worst of the infection drained. Ruby’s chest rose and fell in shallow but steady breaths, a faint hint of color returning to her cheeks.

The realization settled heavily between them. They had done it. Against impossible odds, without the resources they needed, in a glorified daycare masquerading as an operating room—they had saved her.

Callie reached for Arizona’s wrist again, the touch fleeting but grounding. “You were amazing.”
A hollow laugh left Arizona, too tired to hold onto any of the walls she had built between them. “So were you.”

For a second, the past didn’t exist. The pain, the brokenness, the years of hurt—it all faded into the background, replaced by the quiet hum of their breathing and the steady beep of Ruby’s monitor.

But the moment couldn’t last.

A sound echoed in the hallway—a shuffle, a distant clatter. The faint echo of hurried footsteps, the muffled clang of a metal knocked out of place.

Both women froze, muscles tensing.

The air turned electric with the sudden awareness that they weren’t alone. Instinct kicked in before fear could. Bloodied gloves were stripped and discarded, stray instruments shoved hastily aside as Callie reached for a blanket, tucking it gently around Ruby’s tiny frame, masking any sign of the emergency surgery that just unfolded. Tension curled around them like smoke, thick and suffocating. Every instinct screamed to move, to run, but there was nowhere to go. Fear clawed at the edges of reason, pushing against their exhaustion and their desperation.

A whimper sliced through the silence, soft but pleading. Ruby shifted beneath the blanket, her weak eyes fluttered open as a weak cry left her lips. “Mommy...” she whimpered, voice thin and broken.

Panic surged. The sound was too loud, too pleading. Callie’s heart clenched fearing that whoever was outside might have heard Ruby’s begging. She crouched beside the bed, smoothing gentle fingers over damp curls, and whispering soothing words. “Shh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” she murmured, glancing over her shoulder at the door, at the possibility of the threat approaching just beyond it. “You’re safe, I promise. Just stay quiet, okay?”

The footsteps outside grew louder, deliberate, and heavy. A shadow flickered beneath the crack of the door. A sharp twist of the knob sent a bolt of dread right through Arizona and Callie’s chests.

The door creaked open, revealing a figure bathed in the dim light of the hallway. Blood stained the front of his coat, dark and uneven, the fabric clinging to wounds that hadn’t been properly tended to. His breath came in ragged gasps, eyes hollow and frantic.

Arizona moved without thinking, shifting her body between him and Ruby, shielding the little girl with an arm wrapped protectively around her small frame. The weight of responsibility anchored her, pushing aside the panic clawing at her throat.

The door swung open with a groan, revealing a figure hunched in the dim light. Blood smeared the front of his coat, dark patches blooming unevenly across the worn fabric. Hollow eyes darted across the room, wild and searching. Shaky breaths rattled in his chest, his fingers twitching at his sides as one hand held a handgun.

And in his right hand–

A gun.

Before fear could paralyze her completely, Arizona’s grip tightened around Ruby’s fragile frame, her own body tensing as an unspoken promise settled in her bones. The gun in Gary Clark’s hand was unsteady, but it was there—too real, too dangerous. However, no one was going to get past her. Callie went rigid beside them, every muscle coiled, every nerve set on edge.

For a long, stretched moment, nobody spoke.

The gun wavered slightly in Gary Clark’s grasp, his wild, grief-stricken eyes sweeping the room. His gaze flickered over the bed, the cartoon murals on the walls, the soft hum of medical equipment.

A strangled sound caught in his throat.

“There are children here,” Arizona forced out, her voice steady despite the terror clawing at her insides. “This is the pediatrics floor. You can’t be here, please. There are children here”

A slow, uneven breath shuddered from his lips. His shoulders sagged slightly, just enough to tell her that some small, rational part of him had heard her.

The gun lowered—only an inch, but enough.

He swayed on his feet, blinking against the blood loss that was clearly starting to take its toll. “They shot me,” he muttered, almost to himself. His free hand pressed against his shoulder, where his wound resided, fingers curling weekly against the soaked fabric. ”I-I didn’t see it coming. Just a flash, then–” His voice croaked, and the words fell away into the quiet.

Callie moved carefully, deliberate in each slow step. A glance flickered toward Arizona - silent communication, unspoken understanding. They couldn’t panic. They couldn’t give him a reason to pull the trigger.

The blood on his coat had seeped deep, spreading outward in thick, uneven patterns. She took another step forward, hands open, non-threatening. “You’re bleeding,” she said, calm but with wariness. “Let me help.”

A flicker of hesitation rose from his gaze. He was wavering on the edge of all of the uncertainty, exhaustion, pain that his life has ended up becoming. For a split second, he wasn’t a man with a weapon, wasn’t the walking storm of rage and grief that had been tearing through the hospital. He was something else–something human, someone who was just broken.

Carefully, Callie reached for the supply cabinet, tearing open a pack of sterile bandages. She walked over to hand him the bandages. As he slowly reached his hand out for the bandages, his gaze flickered across the room. His eyes were sweeping across the floor, across the mess of medical equipment. Scissors, forceps, sutures, bloodied gauze discarded beside an empty syringe. A surgical field hastily packed away but not hidden well enough. Recognition dawned slowly. He paused, as his breath turned shallow. The hesitation in his stance burned away like paper to flame, replaced with something darker and cold.

“You’re a surgeon,” he said, voice suddenly steeling. The words hit like a punch to the gut.

Arizona’s heart slammed against her ribs. She felt Callie shift from across the room.

A second of silence stretched unbearably thin.

His grip on the gun tightened. His arm lifted slightly, no longer pointing to the floor.

“They’re the reason she’s dead,” he whispered, and this time, there was no hesitation, no fog in his gaze. His voice shook with the pain that had festered too long. “Surgeons”

The weight of the words dripped with venom, with grief so deep it had turned into pure hatred. Callie’s fingers flexed subtly at her side, barely noticeable. Arizona knew she was thinking, calculating, looking for a way to diffuse the moment before it spiraled out of control. However, there was a realization that there was nothing they could say to change what he felt settled like lead in Arizona’s stomach.

A sharp breath cut through the silence. The weight of the gun in Gary Clark’s hand became unbearable, the air in the room thick with the suffocating pressure of inevitability. He was unraveling, the last frayed thread of restraint slipping between his fingers.

Standing her ground, Callie didn’t dare to move closer but she didn’t back away either.

“I am a doctor, a surgeon,” she admitted, her voice even but with a slight shake. “But I’m also a person. I know you’re hurting, I know that this isn’t what you wanted. But you don’t have to do this.”

Clark didn’t blink. His breath shuddered between his lips.” You think you can save people,” he spat, “You surgeons killed her, and now I’m supposed to just let you live?”

A sickening twist of grief and fury rotted in his gut, boiling to the surface in the form of a shaking hand and the slow, deliberate way he raised the gun—no longer unsure, no longer lost.

Panic exploded in Arizona’s chest. Her breath caught, The world tilted.

Callie didn’t flinch. She had to protect Ruby and Arizona. “You don’t want to do this, please,” she said softly, but even Arizona could hear the quiver in her voice now. The unspoken truth that hovered between every word.

The gun, now steady in his grip, no longer wavered as he raised it to point it at Callie. A decision has been made, a fate sealed.

Fingers curled around the trigger as he held it up. A deafening crack split the room in half.

The world shattered.

A strangled cry tore from Arizona’s throat as Callie jerked back, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. The force of the bullet sent her staggering, knees buckling before she crumpled onto the floor. Blood, deep and dark, bloomed across her shirt, a horrifying contrast against trembling hands that clutched instinctively at the wound, as if she could hold herself together through sheer force.

A rush of breath left Arizona’s lungs like she’d been struck herself. She wanted to move, to rush forward, to press her hands against the wound and force Callie to stay, to fight but panic roared through her body, raw and all-consuming. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The only sound that existed was the ragged, choked breaths coming from Callie, the faintest whimper escaping her lips as she fought against the pain. Arizona felt Ruby move against her chest, small and fragile. She won’t move. She just couldn’t risk it. A tremor ran through her hands, but she tightened her grip around Ruby, shielding her from the sight, from the blood, from the monster standing before them.

A heavy silence settled over the room.

The room was too quiet—Callie’s choked breaths, Ruby’s muffled whimpers, Arizona’s own heartbeat slamming against her chest.

Gary Clark remained where he stood, his arm still extended, the gun hanging limply in his grasp. His breathing was ragged, shoulders heaving as if his body hadn’t yet caught up to what he’d done. The fire that had consumed him just seconds before flickered unevenly, rage burning hot but something else beginning to seep through the cracks.

The gun in Gary’s hand wavered, his fingers twitching around the grip as if debating whether he should fire again. His gaze then flickered downward.

Ruby’s small frame pressed against Arizona’s side, trembling uncontrollably.
Something in his expression cracked.

His fingers loosened ever so slightly around the gun. His gaze, once burning with rage, dulled into something almost lost.

A beat passed.

And then, without a word, he turned. Heavy, uneven steps echoed against the floor as he staggered toward the hallway as he held the bandages that Callie gave him. Blood dripped steadily from his own wound trailing behind him as he disappeared into the hallway.

Chapter Text

The door rattled softly in its frame as Gary Clark disappeared into the hallway, but the weight of his presence lingered like a stain, thick and suffocating. The world felt so still, as if the room they were in was holding its breath.

A single, shuddering gasp broke the silence. 

It wasn’t Arizona. Nor Ruby. 

It was Callie 

The moment Arizona’s gaze snapped back to the floor, reality came crashing down with an unbearable force. Blood was everywhere. The scent of Callie’s blood was thick in the air, metallic and suffocating, coating Arizona’s tongue with a sickening weight. The hospital has seen its fair share of tragedies, but never like this. A desperate tremor ran through Arizona’s limbs, panic rising in a tidal wave that threatened to pull her under. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her throat. But she couldn’t let herself panic in this arduous situation. Not when Callie was bleeding out on the floor from a gunshot wound, not when a scared and whimpering little girl was curled against her. 

The child’s grip was iron tight, small fists twisting into the fabric as though afraid to let go. She was too young to fully understand the circumstances of their situation but she understood enough. She knew something was terribly wrong. Carefully, Arizona pried Ruby’s fingers from her shirt, cradling the little girl’s face between her trembling hands. 

“Hey sweetheart,” she whispered, barely able to keep her voice steady. “I need you to be brave for me right now, okay?”

Tear-filled eyes blinked up at Arizona, bottom lip quivering. No response came out from the small girl, her little hands clung onto the doctor’s shirt as if she wanted to refuse. But then, with a hesitant nod, she released her grip and let Arizona guide her back onto the hospital bed. 

“Look away from me, okay?” she asked tenderly. The request was a way to shield Ruby from even more trauma. The child nodded and her eyes shifted away from Arizona’s figure and tightly closed her eyes as she curled into a small protective ball. 

“Good girl,” Arizona murmured, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before turning back to the floor. 

The moment her gaze landed on Callie, her breath hitched, the very sight of the blood staining the floor like an irreversible mark on the world around them. Callie’s face was pale, her features drawn in agony, but despite the pain, there was something unwavering in the way her eyes connected with Arizona’s. A faint smile, a ghost of her usual self graced her lips. The sight of it, the brief connection between them, was both a comfort and a stark reminder of how much was at stake.  

Tears threatened to spill from Arizona’s eyes, but she willed them away, keeping her focus sharp. There was no time for anything but saving Callie. She knelt beside her, careful not to disturb the already precarious situation, and pressed her hands to the wound, trying to gauge its severity. Blood was everywhere, soaking through Callie’s clothing, spreading like ink in water, but Arizona’s mind pushed away the panic. They had both seen worse. They had both been in situations where life hung by a thread, and they had survived.

“Callie, listen to me,” Arizona’s voice was shaky. “I need you to stay awake, okay? I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Callie’s eyes fluttered, her breathing shallow, each inhale more labored than the last. A faint whimper slipped past her lips, but she nodded weakly. Her fingers curled into Arizona’s shirt as a silent plea for reassurance. The blonde doctor’s hands shook as she applied more pressure to the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. 

Swiftly, Arizona scanned the room for bandages and gauze that were left over from Ruby’s emergency surgery, and her eyes caught the tools on the floor close to them. She was already moving before she even realized it, instinct taking over as her fingers reached for the sterile supplies. Her mind raced, calculating the best way to stem the flow of blood without losing more precious time. Arizona pressed the gauze firmly against the wound, her hands shook a lot but she was determined. Blood seeped through almost immediately, but she didn’t stop. She layered more, securing the makeshift dressing as best she could, and then used surgical tape to hold everything in place. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best she could do with what they had.

“Please, stay with me, Calliope” she murmured again, her voice urgent, like a lifeline she was throwing into the storm. Callie’s weak, shuddering breaths were a constant reminder of how perilous the situation was, but Arizona refused to believe that the woman she loved could be slipping away. 

As Arizona was working on the wound, Callie’s grip tightened on her scrubs, her fingers trembling with an urgency that contrasted her fading strength. Through the pain, she still managed to lift her head slightly, her eyes half-lidded with pain. 

“Ruby…” Callie’s voice was barely a whisper, but the worry was unmistakable. “Is she…she’s okay, right?

The question, soft and weak,  caught Arizona off guard. Even as she suffered, Callie was still thinking about the little girl, still putting someone’s well being above her own. It simultaneously melted and broke Arizona’s heart, giving her the strength she needed to push forward. 

“She’s okay,” her voice was tight but reassuring. “She’s fine, I’m right here with you, I promise. You’re gonna be okay too, alright.”

Even as she spoke those words, she was still caught in the suffocating web of emotion that threatened to swallow her whole. Callie’s face was pale, her features strained with the effort of staying conscious and dealing with the pain. Her lips quivered, and the effort it took to simply blink seemed monumental. Her fingers squeezed tighter, a desperate attempt to hold onto something, to hold onto Arizona, even though her body was failing her. 

Even through the haze of pain and blood loss, Callie’s voice broke through shuffling sounds of Arizona working. 

“I…I still…”

The words came out slow as if it took everything in her to just get them out. Arizona leaned in, her heart continuously pounding in her chest. She could see the effort it took for Callie to form a sentence but she still fought for the words that she had been wanting to say. 

“I still…love you, Arizona…” 

The words were a fragile whisper, the once strong voice that demanded attention was nothing but air. Although it was agonizing because of the wound, Callie managed to lift her hand, her fingers gently brushing against Arizona’s cheek. 

At that moment, Arizona felt something snap within her. She had been trying to hold it all together, the doctor in her pushing aside the emotion to focus solely on saving the woman she loved. But now, hearing those words that she craved since their break up coming from Callie’s weakening form, something broke. Her own breath hitched, the weight of the situation sinking deeper into her chest. Her eyes blurred with tears, but she blinked rapidly, trying to at least keep in the last shred of her focus. 

“I love you too, Calliope,” Arizona cracked as her throat tightened with emotion. She moved her blood stained hand and clutched onto Callie’s weak hand on her skin. 

“God, please. I love you so much. I’m right here, you’re not alone. You can’t go anywhere.”

The warmth of Callie’s touch lingered on Arizona’s skin, but the moment was fleeting. 

The fingers that had gently brushed her cheek went slack. 

A shuddering wheeze left Callie’s lips. Her body was now caught between consciousness and the abyss that Arizona refused to let her fall into. 

A soft, barely audible mumble escaped Callie’s lips, the words slurred beyond comprehension. Her brows furrowed, eyes unfocused, a ghost of confusion crossing her face. The next whisper was clearer, a name that sent a cold wave of panic through Arizona’s chest. 

“George…?” 

The name was so fragile but carried so much weight, lost in the haze of blood loss and pure exhaustion. It hung in the air like a cruel trick from the universe, slicing through Arizona with a force she wasn't prepared for. She didn’t want to believe it, but the way Callie’s expression was so dazed, it told Arizona that she was in her own mind. 

A shaky exhale left Arizona’s lips as she pressed all the gauze she could get her hands on harder against the wound. 

“No, Callie, no, no, listen to me. You’re not with him,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “You’re here with me. Stay with me, okay? Please look at me.”

But Callie wasn’t hearing her. Her eyes remained distant, pupils blown, lost in a world that Arizona couldn’t reach.

This was worse than Arizona let herself believe. This wasn't Callie. It wasn’t this. It was her mind spiraling, trapped in a body that was betraying her, forcing memories to surface that had no place here. She wasn’t asking for George. She wasn’t longing for her past life. This was a delusion, a fragment of a reality that wasn’t real, just a consequence of the trauma. Still, hearing it felt like another blow to her already battered soul.

This was wrong. This couldn’t be how it ended. 

“Please,” Arizona gasped, her voice trembling with desperation. “Don’t do this. Please, don’t leave me.” 

Tears burned down Arizona’s cheeks as she shook her head. Her hands moved even faster grabbing more gauze and adding more pressure, more of anything that could keep Callie tethered to her. 

But the only sound that came from Callie was another faint breath. 

Arizona couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The world felt far too small. 

A sob ripped from her throat, the sound raw and unrestrained. The practiced steadiness of a surgeon shattered. She wasn’t able to stop the sheer, unrelenting terror of all this anymore. 

"Somebody help!" The scream ripped from her throat, hoarse and desperate. The sound bounced off the sterile walls, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t loud enough. "I need help in here!"

The sheer volume made Ruby on the bed flinch. Wide, terrified eyes locked onto the sight before her, frozen in place, too young to fully comprehend but old enough to understand fear when she saw it.

Arizona’s eyes flicked to the child, seeing the reflection of her own fear in Ruby’s eyes. She had done her best to keep the girl safe, to keep her calm, but Arizona was failing. She was unraveling, piece by piece. 

But then something shifted. Callie’s fingers, weak and trembling, found their way back to Arizona’s shirt. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for her. Callie wasn’t gone. She wasn’t slipping away, not yet. 

The blonde had to move, had to do more. Her mind snapped back into survival mode. She wasn’t dying at this exact moment, but that didn’t mean they were safe.

In her mind she sifted through every medical instinct that she was trained for. Her eyes scanned the room for anything that could buy more time. Her gaze landed on the remnant of medical supplies left behind from Ruby’s earlier appendectomy. The medical tools weren’t enough for this but it was all they had in the moment. Arizona stood up and began grabbing what she could.

There were more saline vials, still sealed, a few sterile bandages and an unopened box of alcohol pads, which she knew would be useful to clean the wound if she needed to.

A few more rolls of gauze, slightly smaller than the ones she’d already used, but it would work for additional pressure. She grabbed them without hesitation, her mind moving fast. 

She turned back toward Callie, chest heaving, hands shaking as she moved as quickly as she could. Dropping to her knees, she ripped the gauze from its packaging with her teeth and began replacing the blood-soaked layers already pressed to Callie’s side.

Moving skillfully, she carefully pressed the fresh gauze down, using the tape to secure it. The bleeding hadn’t stopped entirely, but it had slowed. That was something. That was hope.

The saline was next. She uncapped it with her teeth, pouring a small amount over the edges of the wound. Callie flinched, a soft sound of pain leaving her lips, and Arizona’s breath hitched.

“I know,” she whispered, pressing a hand against her forehead for just a moment. “I know it hurts, I’m sorry. I just need to keep this clean.”

Arizona’s eyes darted to the pillow on the nearby hospital bed. It wasn’t much, but it could help keep pressure on Calllie’s wound so that she won’t bleed out. Without thinking twice, she grabbed the pillow, removed the pillowcase, ripped it into strips with sheer strength and wrapped it around Callie’s body tightly. 

There wasn’t much else she could do. Not here. Not without proper equipment. She had stabilized her as best as she could, had done everything she could think of with what little she had. Now all she could do was keep Callie warm, keep her conscious, keep her here.

She sat back slightly, brushing sweat-dampened curls from Callie’s forehead, her other hand still gripping hers tightly.

Then, a fatigued sound escaped Callie’s lips which caused Arizona to freeze. She was afraid that Callie might be having another delusion of George, so she held her breath waiting for what seemed to be the inevitable. But the words that she was trying to speak weren't coherent. Callie’s fingers twitched against her shirt, and there was a faint flicker of recognition from her eyes that slightly relieved Arizona. 

Her fingers moved to Callie’s hand, grasping it gently but firmly. 

“Callie?” Her voice is soft and pleading. She needed to be sure that she hadn't lost her. 

Callie’s eyes fluttered again. 

“Ari…zona,” she muttered hoarsely.

She was still there. She was still fighting.

A strangled sob left Arizona’s lips, relief and fear warring for dominance in her chest. The sound of her name, broken and frail, was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. But there was no time to dwell on it. She could feel the steady warmth of blood still pooling beneath her fingers, saturating the layers of gauze she had already pressed down.

She tightened her grip on her hand

“I’m here,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. “You’re doing so good, I’m right here, okay.”

Callie barely moved, but there was a flicker in her expression, a hint of a response even if she couldn’t quite get the words out. It was enough. 

“You still with me?” she sighed, watching those dark, heavy lidded eyes flicker open again. 

A slow, weak blink. But she was looking at her. Really looking at her. And, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” she choked out, “that’s good.”

The only sounds from the room came from Arizona’s ragged breathing and the soft and the unsteady rhythm of Callie’s respiration. The blonde’s hand firmly grasped Callie, her thumb brushing over the back of hand, offering comfort. She wasn’t letting go. Not when Callie needed her most. There was still hope, even if it felt so fragile and fleeting.

A low sound escaped from the hallway, a faint thump, the shuffle of footsteps. Arizona’s head jerked up, her heart skipping a beat. The sounds of boots hitting the hard floor grew louder and closer.  It felt unreal, disbelief clouded her mind as she tried to make some sense of it. 

“Do you hear that?” The soft voice of Ruby broke the tension. “I think…I think I hear people coming.”

The words barely registered at first, but Arizona’s mind was spinning, clouded with confusion as she struggled to catch up with what's happening. She glanced towards the door, her body still posed in tense anticipation. 

“People?” Arizona whispered, more to herself than to Ruby. It wasn’t that she doubted the little girl’s words, but there was something strange about hearing them now. Everything felt disjointed like she was in some kind of slow-motion dream that she was waking up from. 

The sound of footsteps stopped just outside the room, and a shiver of uncertainty passed over Arizona’s skin. 

Then the door creaked open. Arizona didn’t have time to react, her body stiffening instinctively as uniformed figures stepped into the room. The figures who stepped into the room were unmistakable SWAT officers, their dark uniforms and tactical vests stark against the white walls of the peds room. Arizona froze, feeling protective, she pulled Callie close to her chest as she tightened her grip as if to shield her of whatever might come next. 

Her heart thundered as the armed officer surveyed the room. The officers, with grim expressions, scanned the room with practiced eyes. Their eyes flicked to the bloodied mess on Callie’s side and then to Arizona, before they turned their attention to Ruby.

One of the officers, his face set in hard lines, stepped forward slowly with his hand hovering over his rifle which he didn’t need to use here. He looked between the two women, his eyes calculating but softening as he took in the scene.

“We’re here to help,” he steadily said. 

Arizona could barely process the words, so different from the frantic calls for help she’d been screaming moments ago but the calmness of his tone barely reached her. She was still holding onto barely conscious Callie tightly. She knew that they were here to help them which was what really mattered but her mind couldn’t make sense of it all.

A second officer stepped closer, his gaze softening as he took in Arizona’s tight hold on Callie. 

“We need to get her stabilized," he said with urgency. “We’re here to help her. But you need to let us do our job.”

She didn’t want to let go of Callie, didn’t want to surrender the small amount of control she had left. But as the officer’s words sank in, the weight of the situation pressed down on her. Callie needed more than what Arizona could provide in this small, chaotic room.

The hesitation lingered for only a moment longer before Arizona inhaled deeply and reluctantly allowed the officer to guide her hands away from Callie’s side. Every fiber of her being was against it but she knew she had to do it for Callie’s sake. 

“Please,” Arizona whispered, her hands hovering just above Callie’s limp form. “Please take care of her.”

The officer nodded, motioning for his partner to come closer. Arizona moved back, her entire body was unsteady and trembling from the tension and the overwhelming relief that washed over her all at once. All she could think about was Callie. Was she really safe now? Was she going to be okay?

As the officers moved into action, Arizona could only gaze at Callie’s unconscious face, her chest tight with the lingering fear of losing her. 

Arizona’s mind snapped back to the present when she remembered Ruby. She glanced over at the nervous small child who was still lying down on the hospital bed. She needed to ensure that Ruby would be safely back with her family.

“Wait,” Arizona’s voice was hoarse as she caught the attention of one of the officers. “You need to take her to her parents. Ruby,” she added, nodding towards the little girl, “she’s stable. But she just had emergency surgery. She needs to be monitored so find her parents and transfer her to another hospital.” 

Another officer paused for a brief moment, looking at the little girl. “We’ll take care of her,” the officer assured as he approached Ruby so that he could help her get to an ambulance. 

Seeing that Ruby was safe with the officers, she turned her attention back to Callie and watched the officers gently but efficiently place her on a stretcher. They worked quickly, yet with careful precision, securing her and making sure she was stable. Arizona’s hands still trembled, but the doctor within her pushed those feelings aside.

The stretcher was rolled out of the room and into the hallway, and Arizona didn’t hesitate. She was right there, beside Callie, moving quickly as they made their way toward the exit. Every part of her screamed to stay close, but Arizona knew the importance of getting Callie to the next phase of care as fast as possible. There was no time to waste.

The sound of distant sirens and muffled voices filled the air as more emergency responders arrived at the scene of the shooting. Arizona didn’t take in the frantic activity. She barely registered the officers moving in and out of the hospital, or regular people running to get out of the hospital. Her only concern was Callie, and she kept her pace steady, eyes locked onto her, even as the world seemed to blur around them.

Outside, the chaos was even more pronounced. 

The flashing lights of police cars and ambulances illuminated the night, casting harsh shadows against the street. She could hear the frantic sounds of people shouting, the distant cries of pain, the rapid movements of the medical staff as they worked to contain the scene. Body bags lined the pavement, and there were injured people being rushed into ambulances, some of them still conscious, others barely clinging to life. The weight of what had happened, of what they had survived through the skin of their teeth was suffocating. 

But there was no time to dwell on it. Callie was still bleeding. Callie still needed her. 

The paramedics were already in motion as they prepared Callie for transport. Arizona approached them without hesitation, voice sharp and steady.

“She has lost a lot of blood but I’ve managed to slow the bleeding. BP was low but holding last I checked. She needs fluids and saline for her wound. Keep a close eye on her oxygen vitals.”

One of the paramedics nodded, adjusting an IV line. “We’ll take it from here, doc.”

However, Arizona wasn’t going to step away, to let them take Callie away from her. Her fingers curled around Callie’s and held on tightly. 

“She needs me. I’m coming with her.”

The paramedic didn’t argue, just stepped aside to let her climb into the ambulance. She barely noticed the world outside anymore, the bodies, the flashing lights, the noise. All she saw was Callie, pale and motionless, fighting to hold on.

As the ambulance doors slammed shut and the vehicle lurched forward, Arizona pressed a trembling hand against Callie’s forehead. The doctor in her remained sharp, monitoring every beep of the machines, every flicker in Callie’s vitals. But underneath it all, the fear, the desperation, the raw ache of almost losing her was oppressive.

“You’re going to be okay,” Arizona whispered, more to herself than to Callie. “You have to be.”

The ambulance sped through the roads, sirens wailing, but all Arizona could hear was the beeping of the heart monitor. Each beat was a lifeline, a fragile reassurance that Callie was still alive. The paramedics worked efficiently, checking vitals, adjusting the IV, but Arizona barely noticed them. Her entire focus was on the woman lying pale and still before her. 

A faint murmur broke through the hum of the ambulance. Callie’s lips moved barely forming words. Arizona leaned in to hear her better. 

“Hey” she brushed the damp hair from Callie’s forehead to behind her ear. “I’m here. I got you.”

Callie’s eyes flickered open slowly showing her body was affected by the blood loss. 

“Arizona…” she slurred. “You, your shoes.”

Startled by that statement, a confused laugh escaped Arizona before she could stop it.

“My shoes?” she asked incredulously.

Callie’s brow furrowed slightly, her gaze drifting as if she was lost in her own head. 

“You love them…so much, but now they’re ruined…blood.”

A painful mix of heartbreak and affection swelled in Arizona’s chest. Even through everything that they had gone through today, Callie was still Callie. Still finding something to tease her about. 

“They’re just shoes,” she murmured, tears welling in her eyes, looking at Callie with so much adoration. “I don’t care about them.”

“Liar,” Callie breathed as the faintest ghost of a smile appeared on her lips. 

Arizona smiled back at her as tears fell down her face. 

“We’re almost there,” she voiced the promise, thick with emotion. “Just hang on a little longer.”

The ambulance rocked slightly as it turned, the hospital looming ahead. Arizona didn’t let go. Not now. Not ever.

Chapter Text

The fluorescent lights overhead cast a dull glow on the white walls, the hum of machinery filling the empty spaces between hurried footsteps. The waiting room of Seattle Presbyterian was suffocating, not in size but in the weight of unspoken fears that clung to every person in it. Arizona sat stiffly in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, fingers intertwined so tightly they ached. The air smelled of antiseptic, masking the coppery scent of blood that lingered from the chaos of earlier. She had been in hospitals her entire life, but this felt different. This felt like she was drowning.

Beyond the automatic doors, nurses and doctors moved with frantic urgency, their voices hushed yet sharp. The hospital was overflowing with victims from the shooting. Some would make it, some wouldn’t. Arizona swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. Somewhere in this building, Callie was lying on an operating table, her body open and vulnerable, while surgeons fought to piece her back together. The last time Arizona had seen her, Callie was unconscious, her skin too pale, her hands too still. The sight had burned itself into Arizona’s mind, playing over and over like a cruel, inescapable loop.

The weight of another presence pulled her from her thoughts. A familiar figure stood a few feet away, arms crossed over a broad chest, eyes sharp with concern. Mark Sloan. His jaw was set tight, his normally confident demeanor cracked just enough to let worry slip through. Beside him, Lexie Grey shifted uncomfortably, looking back and forth between Arizona and Mark, unsure whether she should stay or step away. Mark’s gaze bore into Arizona, searching, calculating. He took in Arizona’s disheveled appearance, her scrubs streaked with blood, her face pale and drawn with exhaustion. The worry etched in his face deepened when he saw the tremor in her hands, the way her posture had collapsed into something unrecognizable.

“Why are you here?” His voice was steady, but the question was anything but casual. His eyes flickered around the room, scanning for something that could reveal his inquiry. “Did a kid get shot?”

The words hit like a slap, not because they were meant to be cruel, but because Arizona could see the genuine concern behind them. He didn’t know. Of course, he didn’t. Callie had been wheeled past him on a gurney, barely conscious, blood soaking through her clothes, and he hadn’t known.

Arizona opened her mouth, but no words came out. How was she supposed to say it? How was she supposed to explain why she was sitting here, why her chest felt like it was caving in, why her hands wouldn’t stop shaking?

“Arizona,” he tried again, slower this time, his voice edged with something sharper. “What’s going on?”

Her gaze dropped to her lap as if the answer was buried somewhere between her trembling fingers. Every muscle in her body resisted saying it out loud, because saying it made it real. But Mark wasn’t going to back off. He never did.

“It’s Callie,” she finally forced out.

The words seemed to freeze the air between them. Mark’s expression shifted in an instant, his arms falling to his sides, his stance faltering like the ground beneath him had cracked. Lexie let out a tiny gasp, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.

Arizona swallowed hard. “She…she got shot,” she spoke through the tightness of her throat. “She’s in surgery right now.” 

The silence that followed was suffocating. Arizona could feel her heart thudding against her chest, the weight of it almost unbearable. She wanted to look away, to escape the crushing reality of Mark’s wide, stunned gaze, but she couldn’t.

“Callie…” His voice trailed off, raw with emotion, but he didn’t know what to say next. He blinked rapidly as though trying to clear the disbelief from his eyes. His jaw tightened as he took a step towards Arizona, his expression unredeemable for a moment before unfiltered emotion flickered through. 

“She’s in surgery…?” His voice cracked, the grief and frustration barely contained. It was as if the realization had just landed on him, that Callie, his best friend, was on the operating table fighting for her life. It was a blow so heavy he couldn't fully absorb it. Lexie, too, was struggling to keep it together, her usual composure now shattered. She reached out for Mark’s arm, squeezing it gently, though the tremor in her hand betrayed how deeply affected she was.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, looking from Arizona to Mark and back again. Her eyes began to fill with tears without restraint. 

Arizona's chest tightened as she saw the devastation on their faces. The energy in the room had shifted; the shock of Callie being in surgery, the horror of the shooting, and the weight of their shared pain pressed down on her like a physical force. The room felt too small, the walls too close, and she couldn’t help but feel the void between them grow. It wasn’t just the shock of the shooting. It wasn’t just Callie. It was the way the world seemed to be unraveling around them, leaving them all suspended in the aftermath. Her eyes dropped to her hands again, too afraid to meet theirs. Every part of her wanted to pull away, to escape the weight of their emotions, but she knew she couldn’t. Not now.

She took a deep breath breaking through the heavy silence between them, forcing herself to ask the question that had been gnawing at her.

“Why are you two here?” Her voice was soft but curious. 

The question hung in the air between Mark and Lexie, a momentary distraction from the shared pain.

“Is everything okay?” she asked knowing that it was an understatement but the only thing she could think to say as she saw their shared expressions. 

Mark ran a hand through his hair, his fingers digging to the roots as he tried to find some control within him. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, his voice low and strained.

“Alex…,” he said, his voice strained, “Alex was shot too. We’re here for him. He’s in surgery too with Teddy.” 

The grief in his voice wasn’t for Alex, not really. It wasn’t the same kind of devastation he felt for Callie. But it was the realization that the people he cared about were all being torn apart, each one struggling under the weight of the same unimaginable tragedy. He glanced back at Lexie, her tears spilling over, her face crumpled in sorrow.

 "I don’t know how bad it is yet, but... yeah." His words trailed off, unsaid emotions hanging in the space between them.

Arizona’s breath caught in her throat as Mark’s words sank in. She hadn’t known that Alex had been shot too. The weight of it hit her in a way she hadn’t expected. Not just Callie, but Alex as well. It was a ripple of horror she couldn’t escape. 

Lexie had covered her face with her hands now, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed quietly. It was painful to watch, the rawness of her grief pulling at Arizona’s heart. She was always the one trying to hold things together, trying to be calm in the storm, but now the storm had come crashing down around them. Arizona took a deep breath, her hands still trembling as she wiped away a tear that had escaped her own eye.

She looked back at Lexie, still crying quietly, and then at Mark. His eyes were distant, unfocused, like he was somewhere else entirely. Arizona could feel the heat of his grief, even if he wasn’t saying the words. The air was thick with emotion, and she wondered how much longer they could all stand to carry it.

"Mark..." Arizona began, "what do we do now? What happens next?" Her own voice faltered at the question, the weight of it pressing down on her chest like an anchor. What could they do? What could they possibly do when everything felt like it was slipping out of their control? She didn’t have any answers, but she needed someone else to say it. She needed something to hold onto.

Mark turned to her, his expression exhausted but resolute. 

"We wait," he said, his voice thick with the weight of it all. "We wait and hope. That’s all we can do." He paused, his gaze shifting back to Lexie. He reached out and gently pulled her into him, holding her tightly as though he could somehow shield her from the overwhelming devastation. 

"We wait together and hope that they get through this fine." The words felt inadequate, but they were all they had left. 

The clock on the wall ticked with cruel precision, each second another pulse of painful time moving them closer to the unknown. Arizona could feel her body beginning to surrender to the exhaustion she had been pushing aside. But the fatigue was nothing compared to the gnawing terror lodged in her chest. She hadn’t let herself feel it fully yet, hadn’t allowed herself the luxury of breaking down, but here in the  waiting room, it was all she could do to keep herself together. Her fingers trembled on her lap, the only sign of how much her heart was shattering. She wanted to scream, to tear through the walls that enclosed them and go to Callie, but instead, she sat silently, clinging to the possibility of survival.

“What if…what if she doesn’t make it, Mark?” Her voice cracked as the question slipped out before she could stop it. She didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to speak those words into existence, but it was there swirling inside her mind. She just couldn’t help it.  

“There was so much blood, I could barely stop it,” Arizona continued with the weight of the memory. The image of Callie lying there, so still, her life slipping away in those precious seconds, replayed in her mind like a haunting, inescapable nightmare.

She watched as Mark’s face tightened, he didn’t answer immediately. He knew that the words "she’ll be okay" were hollow, and neither of them could bear to speak them. 

He inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly as if trying to steady himself. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low but steady, the weight of it sinking into the space between them. 

“You did everything you could, Arizona,” he said, his gaze never leaving hers. “You got her here. You kept her alive when no one else could. That’s all anyone can ask for.”

“She’s strong,” Mark continued, the words coming out with conviction. “Callie’s strong, she’s a fighter. She’ll get through this. I know she will.”

The hospital's hum continued around them, but in that moment, everything else seemed to fade into the background. It was just them, standing on the edge of an unknown future, clinging to the hope that the woman they both loved would come back to them, that somehow she would pull through. And though Arizona’s heart was heavy, her resolve to wait for Callie to return to her side only grew stronger.

——————————————————

The hours dragged on, each minute feeling longer than the last as if the passage of time was measured only by the ticking clock and the soft shuffle of footsteps around them. Arizona sat still, her body exhausted but her mind racing, replaying the image of Callie over and over her head again. Mark and Lexie were quiet now, sitting next to each other, each of them holding their own weight of pain. Lexie, her eyes swollen from crying, shifted anxiously as she glanced nervously towards the door where at any time a doctor would come out and update them on Alex’s or Callie’s status. Mark remained still, his jaw clenched with worry for Callie. 

Arizona couldn’t look at them for too long; the tightness in her chest wouldn’t allow her to. Her fingers trembled in her lap, her body aching with the strain of holding it all together.

And then, finally the door from the operation wing of the hospital opened. Teddy appeared there with the hospital’s red scrubs, looking weary but composed, her expression momentarily blank before it softened as she looked at Mark and Lexie. She nodded to them before her gaze caught Arizona besides them. Her eyes lingered questionably at her presence there.

“Teddy,” Mark said tightly as he stood up, speaking for Lexie. “How is Alex?”

Teddy’s face shifted into something between relief and exhaustion. “Alex is going to be okay. He’s stabilizing and is expected to make a full recovery. He’s still under observation, but he’s out of danger.”

The words about Alex were comforting, but it was hard to hold on to that relief when Callie’s fate was still hanging in the balance. Arizona didn’t respond right away, too caught up in the whirlwind of thoughts and fears racing through her mind. She just nodded in acknowledgment of Alex’s condition, still too numb to feel anything other than the cold dread gnawing at her insides.

Lexie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her face softened as she curled in on herself with hands covering her face for a brief moment. She didn’t say anything but the relief was clear in her posture. 

"You should go see him," Mark urged quietly. "I’ll stay here with her." He motioned towards Arizona, his voice gentle but firm.

Lexie hesitated, glancing at Arizona before slowly nodding. She stood up from her chair, and without another word, walked toward the ICU. Arizona barely noticed her leave. Her gaze was still fixed on Teddy, still trapped in her own world of fear and worry for Callie.

The waiting room fell silent once more. Teddy, her expression faltering for just a moment, turned her gaze back to Arizona. It was then that she seemed to realize something. Arizona was far too quiet, too distant. Her eyes were empty, lost in the swirl of her own fear.

Teddy approached her, standing a few feet away at first, studying her carefully. The heart surgeon’s gaze flickered with concern, her intuition kicking in.

"Why are you here?" Teddy asked gently, her voice soft but curious.

Arizona didn’t answer right away. She was too consumed by the haunting images of Callie’s still form, too gripped by the weight of the unknown.

Sensing her reluctance, Mark answered for her, his voice thick with sorrow. “She’s here for Callie. Callie was shot... She’s still in surgery.”

Teddy’s gaze softened instantly, understanding the depth of Arizona’s pain. She could see the weight in Arizona’s eyes, the fear that gripped her with every breath. Without hesitation, Teddy moved closer, her hand resting gently on Arizona’s shoulder. 

“Hey, she’ll be okay,” Teddy said with compassion and sincerity. “I’ll check on her status and let you know what’s happening.”

All Arizona could respond with was a nod and soft “thank you.” Her friend gave her a reassuring squeeze before leaving the room, her footsteps fading as she disappeared into the hallway.

Minutes passed in agonizing stillness. Outside, the hallway lights cast long shadows. Mark stayed silent, his eyes downcast as he stared at the floor. He didn’t know what to say, not anymore. There were no words that could fix this, no words that could ease the pain. Arizona remained motionless, her gaze unfocused and her body rigid with tension. The clock ticked slowly on the wall, each second more unbearable than the last. 

Finally, the door opened again. Teddy stepped back into the room, this time with someone beside her. A surgeon, his face drawn with exhaustion, but his posture alert, purposeful.

The air in the room seemed to change as he stepped forward.  Arizona’s eyes, dull with exhaustion and fear, finally met his. Her pulse quickened, the anticipation gnawing at her as she awaited news, any news.

The surgeon’s expression was serious, but devoid of hope, like the ones she’d give to patients’ parents when a surgery went smoothly. But not seeing it for herself, Arizona couldn’t believe it, not until she heard about Callie’s status. He moved toward them, his footsteps deliberate, his eyes scanning the group before landing on Arizona. He cleared his throat, his tone steady but carrying the burden of his profession.

“Hello, my name is Dr.Rodgers, I’m the one who worked on Dr.Torres,” he began, “we’ve stabilized her. She’s in critical condition due to the blood loss and the location of the bullet wound but she’s fighting. It’s too early to say if she’ll fully recover. But we’re doing everything we can.”

The words hit Arizona like a physical blow. Her body stiffened for a moment, her breath catching in her chest as she tried to process the surgeon’s words. Stabilized. Fighting. Critical condition. Each one seemed to twist in her gut, gnawing away at her hope and replacing it with a heavy dread that she couldn’t shake. But at least there was a sliver of something. She didn’t know how much of it she could hold on to, but it was enough for now. 

The surgeon paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle between them before adding, “She’s in the ICU. We’ve managed to control the bleeding, but it’s touch-and-go for now. The next 24 hours are critical.”

Arizona blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. She felt her chest tighten with the effort, but it was futile. She couldn’t contain it anymore. The dam broke.

Her hands trembled at her sides, her eyes brimming with tears that threatened to spill over. Before she could stop it, one single tear escaped and fell down her cheek, followed by another. The weight of it, the overwhelming fear and relief all at once, made her knees weak. Her throat tightened painfully, her chest aching with the strain of holding everything inside. She pressed her hand to her face, trying to stifle the sobs that wracked her body, but the tears came freely now. 

It wasn’t enough to fix it. It wasn’t enough to heal Callie, to make everything right again. But it was a lifeline, a thread she could grasp onto as she fought to keep herself from drowning.

The surgeon seemed to understand, his eyes softening as he watched her, his voice steady but more gentle now. “I know this is a lot to take in. We’re doing everything we can. And we’ll keep you updated regularly.”

Mark, who had been standing nearby, stiff and silent, let out a long breath, the air leaving his lungs as though a weight had been lifted from his chest. He looked to the surgeon, gratitude and exhaustion mingling in his gaze.

"Thank you," he muttered, the words heavy, thick with emotion. His eyes then turned to Arizona, and he stepped closer, as though drawn to her like a magnet.

Teddy placed a hand gently on Arizona’s shoulder. "We’re going to get through this," she said softly, her voice firm, yet warm. "Callie’s strong. You know that better than anyone."

Arizona nodded but didn’t speak, her chest still tight, her mind still racing. She clung to Teddy’s words, trying to find solace in them, but they didn’t quite reach her heart. It wasn’t enough to make her feel safe. She wasn’t sure what could happen. She didn’t know how long they would be there. Hours? Days? Time seemed to stretch endlessly before her, but one thing she knew, she wouldn’t leave. Not until Callie was out of the woods.

As the surgeon moved to leave, Teddy approached him. 

“Can we go see Torres?” she asked, “we want to stay close to her.”

The surgeon stopped, he glanced back at Arizona and Mark and then replied, “You can visit her in the ICU. She’s being monitored there. Just prepare yourselves.”

Teddy nodded and thanked the surgeon. She returned to Arizona’s side, her presence quiet but steadfast. But now, with the surgeon's words hanging in the air, she knew that Arizona needed support.

“You can see her now,” Teddy said with calmness. 

Eyes flashing with a mixture of grief and determination, Mark was ready. He needed to see Callie, needed to be near her. He could feel the weight of his heart heavy in his chest, but there was a flicker of light now. A tiny sliver of hope that he couldn’t let go of.

Arizona stood slowly, her legs shaky from the tension and the tears. Mark reached out to her, his hand at the small of her back as if offering quiet support. She leaned into him slightly, letting herself be steady for a moment before taking the first step toward the door. The uncertainty ahead of her felt like a mountain, but it was a mountain she had to climb. 

The hallway stretched before them, sterile and quiet except for the occasional murmur of voices and the beeping of distant monitors. The weight of exhaustion hung heavy in the air, pressing down on them as they took slow, hesitant steps forward. A nurse passed by, offering a brief glance as if knowing that they came to this hospital from the shooting. Neither Mark or Arizona acknowledged it. Their focus remained locked ahead, towards the end of the corridor where the ICU doors stood. Beyond those doors, Callie was fighting for her life. 

Both doctors have seen traumas. Had been in hospital rooms filled with pain and loss. But this was different. This was Callie. Reaching the doors, Arizona hesitated. Just for a second. Just long enough for Mark to notice. 

His voice was quiet and reassuring as he spoke. 

“You ready?”

She wasn’t. But she nodded anyway.

Pushing forward, they entered the ICU. The air was colder here, the lighting dimmer, casting long shadows against the walls. Nurses moved with quiet efficiency, tending to patients whose battles mirrored Callie’s in different ways.

Room 317.

The numbers on the door felt impossibly small compared to the weight they carried. Arizona pressed her hand against it for a brief moment, grounding herself, then pushed it open.

And there she was.

The sight stole the breath from her lungs. Tubes. Wires. Monitors displaying steady but fragile signs of life. Callie lay still, her skin pale against the stark white sheets. The rise and fall of her chest was painfully slow. 

A quiet sob escaped before she could stop it.

Mark exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he stepped closer. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but the reality of seeing her like this hit harder than he was prepared for. Arizona moved first, her legs unsteady as she reached the bedside. With trembling hands, she brushed her fingers over Callie’s, needing to feel her warmth, needing proof that she was still here.

“I’m here,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the machines. “I’m right here.”

She didn’t know if Callie could hear her, but she needed to say it. Needed her to know that she wasn’t alone.

Mark placed a hand on the railing at the foot of the bed, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His eyes traced over Callie’s form on the hospital bed. There was nothing left to say, nothing that could change the reality in front of them. All they could do now was wait.

The steady beeping of the monitors filled the space, the only reassurance that Callie was still fighting. Still here.

Chapter Text

The steady beeping of monitors became a rhythm that Arizona clung to, as each sound was a reassurance that Callie was alive, still breathing. Time stretches and blurred, the minutes bled into each other with no real sense of day or night. Nurses moved in and out, checking vitals, murmuring updates and offering sympathetic glances her way. 

The chair by Callie’s bedside had become her anchor. Sleep was fleeting, stolen in brief moments where exhaustion of the shooting won over her fear. However, every time her head dipped forward, she jolted awake, terrified had she missed that Callie had slipped away in those precious seconds. 

She wanted, needed to see those brown eyes open, needed to hear her voice, her laugh. Arizona needed absolute proof that this wasn’t where their story ended. 

Footsteps approached, slow and deliberate. A hand on her shoulder pulled her from the daze she was currently in. 

“You need a break,” the voice was firm but kind. 

Arizona’s fingers curled around Callie’s motionless hand, gripping it like a lifeline. She lifted her head as Mark stood by. His arms crossed, dark circles under his eyes. He looked just as wrecked as she felt. 

“I’m not leaving her.”

A heavy sigh followed. “You’re still covered in blood. You’re running on nothing now since most likely your adrenaline has stopped. You need sleep, a shower, food…” His gaze flicked to the dried blood on her clothes. “You can’t sit here like this forever.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do,” Mark’s voice softened. “She wouldn’t want you like this.”

The words cut deeper than she expected. A lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed it down. 

Mark sighed again, dropping onto the chair right across the other side of the hospital bed.

“I’ll stay with her,” he quietly said. “Go home. I’ll call you if anything changes.”

The thought of stepping away sent a sharp pang of guilt through Arizona even though it was irrational. But she knew that the reality was undeniable, she could barely sit upright since her body was purely running on fumes. 

After a long silence, Arizona nodded, barely more than a movement. She hesitated before standing, her legs weak beneath her. Stealing one last longing glance at the still figure on the bed, she squeezed Callie’s hand and let go. 

“I’ll be back soon,” she whispered.

Mark gave a small nod with a reassuring smile. “Take care of yourself. You can call me if you need anything.” 

Arizona made her way down the sterile hallways, each step was heavier than the last. She had to leave for now, but the idea of it felt like abandoning Callie. She just couldn’t keep on empty, if she stayed any longer without some kind of rest and self care, she would be no good to anyone, especially Callie. 

The elevator ride felt like an eternity, the slow hum of the machinery making the only sound in such a tight space. Her mind was a maze of thoughts, images, and emotions she couldn't quite piece together. Arizona could still remember the cold terror of Callie’s eyes, the way her body had gone limp, the smell and look of her blood. She shook her head to clear it, trying to focus on what’s in front of her. 

Stepping out of the elevator, Arizona's body still felt heavy and each step felt like she was walking on thick fog. She barely registered the hospital corridors, the usual sound of activity sounding like a muffled hum in her head. 

It wasn’t until a voice called out to her that she snapped back to the present. 

“Hey,” a gentle voice, one that she recognized, pulled her out of her haze. “Arizona?”

She looked up, blinking as if the light was too bright for her tired eyes. It took a moment for her brain to process the face in front of her, and when it did, she realized it was Teddy. She didn’t even notice her walking towards her. 

Teddy’s face was kind, but her expression was laced with concern. “You okay?”

Arizona opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come. Her thoughts felt like they were only stuck on Callie, making it feel like she lost her ability to string a sentence together. Teddy didn’t push, her presence was a grounding force for her. 

“Come with me,” Teddy said gently, her hand reaching out in quiet insistence. “The on-call rooms have showers and clean scrubs. You don’t have to go home. Just clean up and breathe for a second.” 

Arizona’s gaze fell on the floor for a moment. Teddy’s hand was warm against Arizona’s wrist, allowing herself to ground her in a moment that felt otherwise weightless. The world around her still moved in a blur but the gentle pull of her friend was enough to make her follow.   

The walk to the staff facilities felt longer than it should have. Teddy didn’t speak, didn’t ask anymore questions, just guided her through the corridors with purpose and out of kindness for her friend. Arizona barely noticed when they reached their destination. The on-call room was small, dimly lit and mercifully quiet. Teddy opened a locker, pulling out a fresh set of scrubs, before placing them in Arizona’s hands. 

“There’s a shower in there,” she said, nodding her head towards the door in the corner. “Take your time.”

Arizona stared at the clothes in her grip. The fabric felt foreign, even though she had worn scrubs almost every day of her adult life. 

Teddy’s voice was softer now. “You need this. Please.”

Arizona knew she was right. She could feel the heaviness of dried blood on her skin, the stiff fabric of the scrubs that she is still weaning clinging to her. With a slow nod, she turned towards the small bathroom and pushed the door open. 

The space was just as sterile as the rest of the hospital. However, the setting felt like a separation from the ICU, from the waiting room, from the fear that had wrapped around her like a vice. The bathroom lights were emitting a quiet hum and were flickering, casting a dull glow over the walls. The mirror about the sink reflected someone she barely recognized. She gave Mark and Teddy credit for making her clean up herself, looking at the reflection, she looked terrible. Her eyes were rimmed with red, dark circles etched beneath them like deep shadows. Stands of blonde hair clung to her forehead, tangled and lifeless, a stark contrast to the bright confident person she presents herself to be. The dried blood staining her felt like a scar she couldn’t wash away. 

Arizona forced herself to move, her fingers trembled as she pulled off her bloodstained shirt. Dark, dried streaks mark her arms and hands. The sight of it made her stomach twist. It wasn’t hers. It was Callie’s. That realization hit like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath from her lungs. 

She turned away from the mirror, unable to look anymore. 

She fumbled with the waistband of her scrub pants, the material stuck to her skin in places where sweat and blood had dried. She peeled them away along with everything else, dropping each piece in a heap on the cold floor. 

The air against her bare skin sent a shiver through her, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the temperature or the weight of everything pressing down on her chest. She took a slow step forward, her feet ghosting over the smooth surface of the floor as she approached the shower.Her hand hesitated over the knob for just a moment before she turned it on, and a stream of water cascaded down, sending steam curling through the air.

She stepped into the spray.

The heat stung at first, sharp against her skin but she didn’t move away. Instead she tilted her head forwards, letting the water rush over her hair, down her back, over the dried blood on her arms and hands. Red swirled down the drain, the sight of it making her stomach lurch. It was almost mesmerizing, watching it swirl with the water and go down the drain, as if she could wash away the day along with it. 

But she couldn’t.

No amount of scrubbing could erase the image of Callie on the floor bleeding out from the gunshot wound. The feel of her slipping away beneath Arizona’s hands, the sound of her own voice screaming for help. The ache in her chest tightness, her fingers pressing against the cool tile for support. 

Arizona sucked in a breath, but it felt too shallow, like there wasn’t enough air in the room. Her breaths started to come in ragged gasps, the warm water mingling with the tears she hadn’t realized were falling.  Her face was pressed against the cool tile, her fingers still gripping it like a lifeline. Her chest heaved with every ragged breath, she squeezed her eyes shut trying to block out the memories, the sounds, the panic, but they continued to cling to her. She couldn’t escape the feeling of helplessness as she watched Callie bleed out. 

She had so much left to say to Callie. Her heart was heavy with the weight of their breakup. The arguments and the tears about wanting and not wanting children now seemed so small compared to what’s at stake. They had hurt each other but it was nothing compared to the agony of not knowing if she would ever get the chance to make things right. 

In the peds room where they had been working on Ruby together, it felt like they had found some kind of quiet peace. Although under dire circumstances, the surgery had drawn them back to something comfortable. Arizona remembered the love they shared, the joy that filled their lives before everything got complicated. It was in those quiet moments, the ones between the chaos of a life-saving operation, that she realized how much love she had for Callie, how much she still wanted to fight for them, for the life they had yet to build. Even if it meant having at least ten kids, as long as she had them with Callie, it would grant her so much happiness. She just wanted to feel the warmth of Callie’s touch and voice. 

But now, standing under the water, the gravity of it all hit her with force. Arizona loves Callies, so much. Her body shook as the sobs came, raw and desperate. Could they overcome everything? Or was it too late?

“Please, Callie… please,” Arizona whispered to herself, the words more of a prayer than a plea.

But the words hung in the air, unanswered, and she knew, deep down, that no matter how much she begged, she couldn’t change what had already happened. All she could do was hope. Hope that Callie would open her eyes again, hope that their broken love could be mended, hope that they still had time.

Arizona finally turned off the water, her body trembling from exhaustion and fear. She dried herself quickly, her hands shaking as she pulled on the fresh scrubs Teddy had given her. It felt like the smallest act of self-care, but it was all she had, all she could manage. 

She stepped out of the bathroom with wet hair, her eyes were bloodshot and her skin was pale. Teddy was waiting for her, standing by the door with a soft, knowing expression on her face. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. She just pulled Arizona into a hug, holding her close as the last remnants of her tears quieted down. Arizona clung to her, feeling the comforting warmth of her friend’s embrace engulf her. 

Teddy pulled away from the embrace, her hands resting on Arizona’s shoulders, her gaze steady and kind. 

“Arizona, you need to rest. Just use the on-call bed. You need sleep, real sleep. Not those short naps that you’ve been stealing by Callie’s bedside."

Eyeing the small bed in the corner of the room made Arizona feel hesitant. What if something happened to Callie while she slept? What if she wasn’t there when Callie needed her? The fear of missing out on that one critical moment kept her rooted to the spot. 

“I-I don’t know,” Arizona softly stuttered. “What if something happens to her while I’m sleeping?”

“I promise you, if anything changes with Callie, I will wake you up. I won’t let you miss a thing. You’ve been here for hours, your body is giving out and your mind needs rest. You’re no good to Callie in this state. She needs you to be okay too.”

Arizona stared at her, her breath shaky. Her body was screaming for rest, but her mind wouldn’t let her quiet the fear that had taken over. But Teddy’s words slowly started to sink in. The sincerity in Teddy's eyes, the quiet certainty that there were people  watching over Callie, eased the tightness in Arizona’s chest just a little. It was a small comfort, but it was enough to make her take that first hesitant step toward the bed.

She sat down heavily on the edge, the exhaustion now catching up with her in full force. 

"Just close your eyes for a little while, Arizona. I’ll be right outside. You’ll be okay." 

Arizona nodded and laid back slowly on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The soft sound of Arizona’s breath, shaky but rhythmic, filled the room. She was exhausted, her body trembling with the toll of the day’s events, but it didn’t matter. She couldn’t stop thinking about Callie. 

The minutes passed by and slowly, just as Teddy had promised, Arizona felt her body begin to relax, the tension in her limbs unwinding with each deep breath. Her eyelids fluttered, heavy with sleep. As she drifted off a wave of peace, faint but real, washed over her as her mind surrendered to much needed rest. The world outside the small room continued, the hours ticking by, each one bringing closer to the unknown future. But in this brief moment, Arizona allowed herself the grace of sleep, trusting that for now it was enough. 

——————————————————————

Callie’s world was a blur of shapes and sounds that didn’t quite make sense. The first thing she felt was the weightlessness of her body, as if she were floating. Her head throbbed, a pulsing ache that she couldn’t escape. She was disorientated, drifting between consciousness and a dreamlike state, unable to tell where she ended and where the darkness began. 

Gradually, the fog in her mind began to lift, and her senses slowly started to come back into focus. The smell of antiseptic and sterile hospital air filled her nostrils, the beeping of monitors registering in the back of her mind. Her throat was dry, and the air seemed thicker than normal, making every shallow breath she took a struggle. A sensation she registered after every breath she took was the pressure against her torso, the tight, uncomfortable feeling of bandages wrapped around her body. 

Slowly, pieces of her memory started to slip back into place, each one heavier than the last. The shooting. The gunfire. The chaos that erupted in the hospital. Callie could still feel the hot, searing pain in her side, the blood… her blood seeping out as she crumbled to the ground. The image of Arizona’s frantic face, the fear in her eyes, the way she cradled Callie as though trying to hold her together. It all came rushing back in a sharp, painful wave. 

A groan escaped her lips, and she tried to shift her body, but the movement only made the pain in her side flare up. Her fingers twitched slightly, the sensation of the sterile sheets beneath her skin grounding her. She was alive. That was the first thought that pierced through the haze. She was still here, still breathing. 

Callie’s eyes moved to the side, her gaze searching the room. It was small and stark, nothing but the bed she was lying in, a few machines, some chairs and the sound of distant voices from the hallway. There was a chair by her bedside, a table with a cup of water on it, but there was no one beside her. No Arizona. 

At first, it didn’t strike her as odd. Maybe she just hadn’t seen her yet, or maybe Arizona had stepped out for a moment. After all, she couldn’t expect her to be by her side constantly. But as she shifted slightly, trying to ease the tension in her body, the feeling of emptiness began to settle in. She was alone.

Callie’s eyes then flickered towards the open door, her gaze fell on Mark who was standing by the nurse’s station, talking to a doctor. Lexie stood beside him, her arms crossed as she listened intently. Mark’s voice was low but she could hear the occasional word, though none of it seemed to register. She couldn’t focus on that. 

For a moment, Callie just laid there, trying to make sense of her surroundings. The dull ache in her side, the emptiness around her, the faint sounds from the machines and outside the room. It all felt strange, as though she was disconnected from it all. 

“Arizona…” she murmured softly, the name slipping from her lips before she realized it. Her voice was raw but the words were clear. 

Mark’s attention was caught by the soft sound that came from Callie’s room. His head turned instinctively, his eyes landing on Callie’s open, searching eyes. 

“Callie?” Mark’s voice broke through the calm, the concern evident as he immediately turned from the nurse’s station, stepping towards her room with quick strides. Lexie followed closely behind him, her expression filled with concern and relief. As he entered the room, the realization hit him that his friend was awake and the shock of seeing her lifted some tension from his body. 

“Hey, hey Callie,” Mark said softly, his voice thick with emotion. He took a careful step closer, glancing at the machines that monitored her vitals, before lowering his gaze at her. “You’re awake. Thank god. You scared the hell out of me, Torres. How are you feeling?” 

The tears that he had been repressing had finally spilled over. They were tears of relief, of love for his best friend, of the raw realization that he hadn’t lost her. 

Callie watched him, her heart aching at the sight of Mark’s emotion. She could see how much he cared, how deeply he was affected. It made her want to reach out, to say something, but her body felt so heavy, her throat still dry and raw. She tried to speak but only managed a faint, breathy sound.

“Arizona…” Her voice was weaker now, her mind struggling to stay present as she looked up at Mark with pleading eyes. She needed to know where she was, needed to hear that Arizona was still with her.

Mark’s heart twisted in his chest at the distress in her voice. He gave her a small, reassuring smile. 

“She had to step out for a moment,” he said, trying to reassure her. He didn’t want her to worry, not now. “But she’s been here the whole time, she’s been by your side. She didn’t leave you, Teddy and I just wanted her to rest for a moment.” 

Callie’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t say anything at first. She absorbed Mark’s words, the soft comfort in his voice, and for a moment, she allowed herself to believe him. Arizona wouldn’t leave her. Not after everything that had happened.

Mark glanced at the door, and then back at Callie, his hand reaching for the call button to signal the nurse. “I’m going to get a doctor in here, okay? Just a check-up. Make sure everything’s still going well. You just focus on resting.”

Callie nodded slowly, her eyes still a little unfocused as she fought the heavy pull of exhaustion once again. Mark stayed by her side, watching her closely, a sense of protectiveness washing over him. She might have been awake, but Callie still had a long way to go. And Mark wasn’t going to leave her, not for anything.

“Rest,” he whispered. “We’ll take care of everything. Arizona will be back soon.”

——————————————————————

The faint sound of footsteps approached the room, followed by a soft knock on the door. Arizona didn’t stir. She was too deep into the weight of sleep, too overwhelmed to register the interruption.

The door creaked open gently, and Teddy stepped in, her movement soft yet purposeful. She knew needed her rest, but she couldn’t let her stay asleep anymore. Especially when she had good news. 

“Teddy?” Arizona’s voice was groggy, still thick from sleep. Her body still ached with exhaustion, her mind refusing to let her rest with worries swirling in her head. 

Teddy smiled gently. “Hey Arizona. It’s time to wake up.”

Although Arizona was slow to respond, Teddy’s words began to register. “Is everything okay? Callie…” Her voice cracked slightly, the worry still clinging to her like a second skin.

Teddy quickly moved to the side of the bed, sitting down beside Arizona, a comforting presence that helped ease some of the tension in the air. “Callie’s awake,” she said, filled with relief for her friends

“Wha… Really?” Arizona uttered, filled with disbelief, her heart racing. She could barely hold back the flood of emotions that bubbled up within her. She hadn’t dared to hope that this moment would come. “She’s okay? She’s really awake?”

“Yeah. Mark’s with her right now. He called for a doctor, but Callie’s awake. She’s conscious. She’s asking for you, Arizona.”

The rush of emotions were overwhelming, but Arizona’s heart was light for what felt like the first time in forever. She swung her legs off the bed and hugged Teddy. 

“Thank you,” Arizona choked, her grip on Teddy tightened with so much gratitude for her friend. She backed off and met Teddy’s eyes for a brief moment of unspoken understanding. “I have to go to her.”

Teddy smiled warmly. “Go. She needs you.”

Arizona didn’t need to be told twice. She pushed herself off the bed, her legs shaky, but her determination stronger than the exhaustion weighing her down. Every moment felt like it had been building to this one, her desperate need to be by Callie’s side, to know that she was truly alive and conscious.

She moved down the hallway in the ICU, her eyes scanning for the familiar door to Callie’s room. She could hear the soft murmur of voices as she approached, her heart pounding louder with each step. Arizona’s footsteps quickened as she neared the door. She reached it and paused for a moment, taking a breath. She could hear Mark’s voice, but it was muffled by the closed door. She needed to see Callie. Needed to make sure with her own eyes that the woman she loved dearly was really awake and really okay. 

Her hand hovered over the door handle, and then, without another thought, she pushed it open.

The sight before her nearly brought forth more tears in her eyes.

There, lying in the bed, was Callie…awake. Her eyes were open, slightly unfocused, but she was awake. Callie was breathing, her chest rising and falling with each slow, deliberate breath. Arizona felt the room spin for a second, but the overwhelming relief that hit her so suddenly kept her grounded.

Mark stood by her side, talking softly to her, his mouth turned upward in a smile. He turned when he heard Arizona enter. His face softened, and there was a glimmer of relief in his eyes too. 

“She’s been asking for you,” Mark remarked, his tone light, almost teasing, trying to break the tension in the air. “Guess you’re the only one she’ll tolerate around here.”

Arizona gave him a small, grateful smile, though her heart was still racing as she moved closer to the bed. She didn’t need to hear anything else. Just seeing Callie awake, breathing, looking at her, was enough to fill her with a sense of peace that had been missing for so long.

Callie’s eyes, though still a little dazed, shifted toward Arizona, and for a moment, it felt like the entire room slowed down. Arizona’s voice trembled slightly, but it was steady, full of love.

“Calliope…” she whispered, her hand reaching out instinctively to take hers. 

Callie’s lips parted as if trying to speak but only a faint, breathless mumble escaped.

 “Arizona…”

The way Callie said her name, so weak, yet filled with so much emotion, made Arizona’s chest tighten. She squeezed her hand gently, her other hand brushing Callie’s hair back from her forehead.

“You’re okay,” Arizona murmured, tears threatening to fall as she gazed lovingly at Callie. “You’re safe now, Callie. I’m not leaving you. I promise.” 

Sensing the intimacy of the moment, Mark quietly moved toward the door, giving them the space that they needed. He offered Arizona a brief, supportive nod before leaving the room, closing the door gently behind him.

Arizona remained by Callie’s side, her focus solely on her, blocking out everything else in the world. The room was quiet now, save for the gentle beeping of the machines that monitored Callie’s vitals. Arizona couldn’t tear her eyes away from her. Every soft breath Callie took, every shift of her body, felt like a precious miracle.

“Calliope. I–,” Arizona began but the weight of everything she’d been feeling stopped her from speaking. She wasn’t sure what words could convey all the love, relief, and desperation that had been building inside her. Her emotions began to spill as the tears began to pour down her cheeks. She couldn’t hold them back anymore. Arizona sank down slowly into the chair beside Callie’s bedside, her body shaking as the tear fell freely, her hand still holding onto Callie’s. 

“I was so scared, Callie,” Arizona wept. She rested her forehead against the back of Callie’s hand, crying quietly. “I didn’t know if you were going to…I tried so hard to keep you here, I couldn’t lose you.”

She slowly turned Callie’s hand, so that her palm was facing up. Arizona gently cupped Callie’s hand against her cheek, the warmth of it a stark contrast to the coldness she’d felt while Callie was unconscious. She closed her eyes, leaning into the touch, letting the softness of Callie’s hand soothe her raw emotions. She closed her eyes as she let herself feel grounded again. 

“I love you so much, I don’t know what I would do without you,” Arizona sniffled and kissed the inside of Callie’s hand to show her just how much she meant to her. 

Callie blinked slowly, her lips parting as if she was trying to say something more, but her body was still weak, still recovering. Yet, there was something in her expression, in the way she looked at Arizona, that spoke louder than words ever could.

“Arizona…” she rasped. Callie’s fingers weakly stroked Arizona’s cheek as if she couldn’t believe that she was allowed to do that gesture again. 

Arizona let out a soft, shaky laugh, brushing her thumb over the back of Callie’s hand. 

“I’m right here, Calliope. I’m not going anywhere.”

The faintest ghost of a smile appeared on Callie’s lips. She swallowed again, trying to form proper words. 

“You…you look like hell,” she teasingly  murmured. 

A breath of laughter escaped Arizona. “Yeah, well, you scared the hell out of me,” she admitted. “I haven’t slept or eaten much… I couldn’t do anything but sit here and wait for you to come back to me.”

“Didn’t mean to,” Callie rasped. “Sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. I’m just so grateful that you’re okay. Just focus on resting, okay.”

Callie’s smile grew on her face. “I’m here,” she exhaled softly, as if finally allowing herself to believe it. “I love you too, Arizona.”

A sob caught in Arizona’s throat as she leaned forward, pressing Callie’s hand against her lips once again. 

“I love you too,” she breathed against her skin, “so much.”

Arizona lifted her head, her teary blue eyes meeting Callie’s dark, tired ones. Despite the fatigue weighing Callie down, she was still looking at Arizona with the same familiar warmth, that same undeniable love that had always tethered them together. She felt Callie’s hand caress her cheek which sent a shiver down Arizona’s spine. She leaned into the touch, her lips parting as a soft breathless chuckle escaped. 

“God, I missed you.”

With what little strength Callie had, she shifted slightly, tilting her chin up , silently asking for something more.

Arizona understood immediately. 

Carefully, she leaned in, closing the distance between them. Her heart pounded as she felt the warmth of Callie’s breath against her skin. The world seemed to disappear around them, the steady beeping of the machines fading into the background as everything else fell away. There was only the gentle touch of Callie’s hand, the warmth between them, the deep connection that had never faltered despite everything they’d been through.

And then, at last, their lips met.

It was soft at first, tender and careful. Callie’s lips were warm against Arizona’s. Arizona kissed her back with every loving emotion that had been building inside her when she was waiting for Callie to wake up. The kiss was slow as if they were both savoring the moment, as if they needed this physical connection to confirm the miracle before them. 

For a long moment, they lost themselves in each other, the kiss saying everything words could not. The love, the fear, the promises they had yet to make, all expressed in the quiet intimacy between them. 

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless and still holding onto each other, the silence in the room felt sacred. Arizona’s forehead rested against Callie’s, their breaths mingling in the stillness. Arizona could feel her heart still racing, but now there was peace in it. 

“I’m here,” Callie stated with warmth and reassurance. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Arizona’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, her chest rising and falling with each steadying breath. 

“I’m never letting you go again.” Arizona wanted to share more but in that moment the comfortable silence that followed felt right.

They stayed there for a while, just existing together in that space—no more words, just the deep connection that had always been between them. Arizona remained by Callie’s side, holding her hand, pressing gentle kisses to her forehead and the back of her hand, refusing to let go, cherishing every moment they had.

The world outside their little bubble could wait. For now, it was just them alive, together, and healing. And that was enough.