Work Text:
Arizona shut the door of the supply closet behind her, biting down hard on her lip at the tears that had been welling in her eyes began to fall down her face. She’d stormed out of the OR the second she’d closed the chest of the four year old that had died on her table today. The four year old who’s case she’d followed from birth, who’s hand she’d held before the surgery and promised he’d be okay.
Yet his pale body lay still in the OR, eyes misted behind long-lashed lids that had fluttered with life just hours earlier. And it had been on Arizona’s table, during Arizona’s surgery, he’d died from a complication that Arizona had failed to prevent. God, she hated herself right now.
Her breaths were coming hard and fast in-between sobs that wracked her body as her knees buckled beneath her, hitting the linoleum floor with a sickening thud, a yelp of pain punctuating her loud sobbing.
She felt for one of the silver poles that supported the shelves piled high with boxes of medical equipment, trying to subside her panic with the sensation of the cold metal against her clammy palms. She tore the bobby pin out of her hair, letting it tumble over her shoulders as she threw the pin hard against the wall, a feeble attempt to release the frustration and grief that burned at her insides.
Ten minutes from now, she’d need to face the family. The boy’s round-faced mother who’d always smiled and offered Arizona cookies from a tin and hugged her after yet another procedure. His father, who was quiet but tuned into his son’s every movement, often sitting vigil at his bedside through long and difficult nights while Arizona had lingered by his monitor anxiously.
The door handle rattled and there was a quiet knock at the door. Arizona buried her face in her hands. “Not now, please.” She said, her voice cracking a little bit. There was another knock, firmer and more insistent. “Arizona.” Said the voice on the other side.
“Fuck off, please.” Arizona said, punctuating her sentence with another sob. “I don’t need anyone right now.”
The lock twisted and the door swung open. Callie Torres stood in the doorway, her dark-honey coloured eyes gazing down at Arizona softly, a bobby pin in one hand from where she’d picked the lock. She closed the door behind her, leaning against it. “Calliope, please.” Arizona said, her body trembling involuntarily. The last thing Arizona needed was the gorgeous girl she was dating to see her in such a state.
Callie lowered herself to sit beside Arizona. “Talk to me, Arizona.” She said softly. Arizona couldn’t resist much longer, Callie was the closest she’d come to home she had in this new city where everything felt unusual. Arizona told her everything, her words tumbling out of her mouth in-between shaky breaths and broken sobs, her eyes red and swollen with her sorrow.
By the time she’d finished telling her, she found herself wrapped in Callie’s arms, forming a wet patch on the breast of Callie’s labcoat as Callie rubbed her back in slow, soothing circles, her other hand stroking Arizona’s blonde locks. “That’s shitty, Arizona. I’m sorry.” She said finally, her voice soft and sincere.
“I’m shitty.” Arizona sniffed, another choked sob wracking her body. Her head ached from crying, even as she involuntarily leaned further into Callie, letting the taller brunette hold her tight.
“No, Arizona, you’re not.” Callie murmured. “Please don’t say that. That surgery was a risk – they knew it, you knew it. You gave him the best shot. Nothing that happened in that OR today was your fault.” She took a deep breath. “You’re the best doctor that kid – any of the kids in this wing – could’ve gotten. You’re flawless in the OR, you look at every tiny detail on their chart – twice over, most of the time – and you get every test in the book so that you’re diagnosis is cornered.” Arizona murmured something indecipherable into Callie.
“But beyond all of that, any of that, you care. You care about your patients, you take the time to talk to them and inform their parents and loved ones. You do so much out of the OR that no other surgeon I know would even think about for one moment.” Callie said, kissing the top of Arizona’s hair. “And you’re fucking beautiful, wickedly clever and such a smart-ass sometimes. It gets annoying, honestly. And I love you.” Callie told her firmly.
Arizona’s sobs subsided for a moment. Callie had just told her that she loved her.
Arizona lay there in Callie’s arms, stumped for a moment. “I love you too.” She said finally, her voice tired and weak, but she meant it.