Chapter Text
Arizona stares at her phone. She won’t unlock it, she doesn’t even want to, except she does because Callie is messaging her, and she wants to know why. She’s sitting in Herman’s office, hunched on the couch in the corner, her fingers floating above the notification.
Even though her head is spinning from the vodka bottle she finished before work this morning, her mind still works. She sets her phone down for the moment and takes a deep breath, collecting herself and trying to sober up. She really shouldn’t be drinking at work, like, she really shouldn’t. It helps her get through the day.
Arizona’s downward spiral since the divorce has been rough, to say the least. The papers haven’t even processed yet.
She’s always drunk now, and it’s seeped into her work life so much that she’s very scared Herman will notice. She can’t even imagine how terrible that would go; at the least, she would get kicked from the program, at the worst, Herman would petition that her license be revoked. That is not at all what she needs right now, especially not on top of everything else.
She and Callie have gotten away with not communicating at all for over a week. Arizona manages to completely avoid Callie, even though they share a workplace and a daughter. Callie takes Sophia most of the time, and when it is her day, she makes sure to pick Sophia up from daycare, not from the apartment.
Arizona doesn’t want to see Callie, her stupid face that is in every single one of Arizona’s dreams, and her stupid body that always pops into her mind just before climax, no matter what.
She wants to keep avoiding her, would actually love to never have to talk to her again, but then again, she’s curious. She needs to know, it could be important, it could be a confession that she is everything Callie ever wanted and more, and that they need to get back together immediately. It won’t be that, but technically, it could be. Delusion is okay sometimes.
Arizona decides before she can stop herself, and suddenly she’s swiping up and typing in her password, navigating the screen till she sees Callie’s name and the three messages she left her. She clicks on them and reads them all carefully, soaking in the words.
Hey, Arizona!!
Sorry for bothering you, butI haven’t seen you in a while. I was wondering if you’re doing okay still? You seemed like a bit of a mess when we talked in the hall a few weeks ago, and you’ve been avoiding me since, just wondering!
Arizona would be okay, good even, if those were the only messages. Callie is just being polite and caring, like she’s always been. Arizona could have even appreciated the concern, maybe. But there were three messages, not two.
Are you not taking your antidepressants anymore? I’m worried about you, Arizona. Sophia said you don’t even play with her anymore, and that you’re still staying at that hotel? You need to play with your daughter, especially considering you’re with her less than half the time.
Arizona blinks at the message, rereading it multiple times to make sure she got it right. Sophia told her. Great.
Besides that, what a typical thing for Callie to text. The woman has no self-awareness, no idea of when she should talk and when she should just shut the fuck up. She’s rude and accusatory, all while acting like she’s the nicest, most caring person in the world. Arizona had a name for it early on in their relationship, a name she can’t even remember now.
It used to endear her, the way she just spoke her mind, never let anyone dim her or shut her up.
Arizona used to think it was cute, five years ago. Now, she thinks it’s the most annoying, inconsiderate thing Callie could do. You shouldn’t be talking like that to someone that you don’t love. Someone that you merely tolerate because you were stupid enough to include them in your kid's life.
Callie should not be talking like that to Arizona. It’s cruel of her.
Of course, Callie will never change her ways with Arizona. Callie will forever be seemingly unbothered by the decision she made that broke the fragile pieces of Arizona that were still intact.
The worst part is that Callie is still phrasing it to people as a mutual agreement, something that they both wanted, something that they both needed. Like what happened was a good thing for both of them.
Arizona can’t speak for Callie, but the divorce is not what she needed. Everything that happened was, in fact, the opposite of what she needed. Callie will apparently never understand that.
After a minute or so of staring at the message, Arizona’s fingers start to type out a response, deleting and rewriting multiple times until she settles on a message that answers the question just enough to make it clear she is not going to talk about her mental state or her medication, not to Callie, and not now or ever again. It’s none of Callie’s business, and she should know by now that Arizona does best left alone to stew in her own emotions.
It’s been a long few weeks, and honestly, I’ve been dead tired. You know how it is, lol. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine and taking everything I need to be. Sophia’s fine when she stays with me, too. Everything is fine. I’m looking at apartments this weekend.
A half lie, but also a half truth.
Arizona clicks the send button before she can second-guess herself, shutting off her phone and tossing it across the room, throwing herself on the couch dramatically. It beeps with a text message almost immediately after it leaves Arizona’s hand, making her groan into the cushions.
Callie has no right to be doing this to her, to acting like she cares when she is the one who left her, who deserted her like they didn’t go through absolutely everything together, like they didn’t have a daughter together that they were trying desperately not to fuck up.
So what if Arizona stopped taking her antidepressants? She doesn’t see how that’s any of Callie’s business. Of course, her daughter had to snitch. This is why she didn’t want children; she didn’t want to have to deal with another thing, to keep it happy and healthy. She loves Sophia very much, honestly, the little girl is the one good thing Arizona has left, but that doesn’t mean she’s not bitter and angry at her sometimes. Especially since the divorce, considering she seems to have taken more of a liking to Callie.
Arizona spent a few minutes with her face down in the mattress, letting herself feel all the emotions before she composed herself, only slightly worried that Herman would walk in. Eventually, she feels calm enough to get up and retrieve her phone from the floor to her left, weighing it in her hands and contemplating whether Callie even deserves a response from Arizona. In Arizona’s opinion, Callie is the one who burned their bridge; she has no reason to humor her or answer personal questions about herself. Still, her curiosity and deep internal need to be cared about win over her stubbornness, and she opens her phone and clicks into the messages.
Why have you been tired? Is Herman being a pain?
Arizona paused for a moment before responding, tapping her fingers against the side of her phone and weighing how much truth Callie deserves.
No. We’re good friends now. She’s nice and very good at her job. Lots to learn. I’m just busy.
Another half lie. She is very busy, that’s true, but she and Herman are very much not good friends.
Arizona actually hates Nicole Herman with such passion, passion she doesn’t feel for anything else anymore. Still, she doesn’t want Callie to know that; she wants Callie to be out of the loop. Arizona does not want her ex-wife to know any intimate details about her ever again. She already knows enough for a lifetime.
I’m glad you’re enjoying fetal. I knew it would be good for you to try something new and put yourself out there! I’m busy too right now, being a surgeon lol.
Arizona grimaces at Callie’s message. She always twists the truth to be so much nicer. Callie did not think joining a new fellowship would be good for Arizona; she actually thought it was a terrible, selfish idea and that it would effectively tear their family apart when they were already barely holding on. To Callie’s credit, she was right. Fetal was the final nail in the coffin that was their toxic chaos of a marriage.
Yep. I’ll pick Sophia up at 8 tomorrow. Got to get back to work, don’t want to be late. See you, Callie.
She powers her phone off before she’s able to see Callie's response. She has no idea what it could even be, but she knows whatever she said is just bound to make her more miserable and depressed than she already is.
It’s been almost two months since the divorce. 58 days. It’s crazy to Arizona how fast time flies, she feels like it was only yesterday that she and her wife were sitting in front of the couples counselor. It does not feel like it was a whole two months since she confessed her love, poured her heart out for Callie, and Callie left her in return. Made this bulllshit speech about how she wanted them to be happy and then just up and left, like it was nothing, like she didn’t just crumple up Arizona’s only will to get better, to live.
Arizona's life has changed so drastically in those two little months. She’s not herself anymore at all. She’s decently ashamed of the woman she is now; the skipping work and dodging responsibilities, the alcohol and the sex with younger women, and the newfound volatility, all work together to shape her into a woman she is not proud to be. She’s nothing like her old self, and she’s almost, almost offended that no one else has noticed or confronted her.
She forces herself up from the couch and to rounds before she’s late, moving with purpose down the hallway and into the room of her, Herman, and Graham's most recent mother, where Herman and Graham stand waiting for her. She seems to be just on time, as Herman doesn’t start chastising her, only looks at her with familiar disdain. Arizona slides in next to Herman and listens to Graham read the chart, her mind slightly lost at all the medical terms she definitely used to know, but now draws a bit of a blank.
Arizona zones out halfway through, the alcohol impairing her ability to focus. Her eyes are trained on a spot in the corner of the room, her focus only broken when she hears Herman talking.
“Dr. Robbins. Could we step into the hallway, now?” she says, her voice stern and taut, making it clear to everyone in the room that Arizona is in trouble.
Arizona darts her head up and is met with the three people looking at her, varying states of annoyance on their faces. Arizona gulps and nods, following Herman, who has already started walking, into the hallway. She bites her lip as she steps into the hallway, cursing herself for being so stupid, knowing Herman sees right through her antics.
Herman rounds on her almost immediately after the patient's door clicks shut, glaring at her fiercely and opening her mouth to speak. Arizona cuts her off, weakly defending herself.
“Dr. Herman, I’m so sorry. It’s been a rough day, my daughter–” Arizona starts then stops when she is swiftly interrupted by Herman. The attending can go from being kind and asking you about your day, laughing at your jokes, to being a real bitch in a matter of seconds.
“I don’t know what demons you’ve got going on with you right now. I don’t care,” she says sternly, her taller figure brooding over Arizona menacingly, “I chose you for this, and you have consistently embarrassed me, time and time again, with your foolish mistakes and thoughtlessness. This program is an honor!”
“Of course it is, Dr. Herman. I’m so sorry,” Arizona gets in before she is interrupted yet again.
“This is two strikes, Robbins. One more time, and I will kick you out of this program,” Herman says angrily.
Arizona flinches back slightly, nodding seriously, tears welling up in her eyes despite herself. She desperately blinks them back down.
“Yes, of course, Dr. Herman. It won’t happen again,” is all she manages to get out before her voice breaks and she stops trusting herself to talk in an even tone.
“I chose you because you were the best Arizona. You have talent, but you are stupid. You have made careless mistakes, and you are consistently disrespectful. I don’t have time for someone who isn’t ready to learn,” Herman says, her voice barely softer but slightly more sincere.
“I am the best. I promise this won’t happen again,” Arizona says sincerely, truly disappointed in herself for her constant underperformance, cursing the alcohol she can still taste in her mouth.
Herman returns to the patient's room without another word, and Arizona follows behind quietly, her head bowed imperceptibly in shame. She’s determined to keep the fellowship. It’s all she has left.
_________
The next day, after a solid pep talk and a few too many shots, Arizona finds herself in the elevator of Callie's building. She’s here to pick up Sophia for her weekend. Her stomach isn’t flipping, which is a new feeling as of late. It honestly makes her more scared.
The elevator is taking longer than usual; Arizona drums her fingers against the handles on the wall and studies the people next to her. It’s a woman, not much older than her but certainly more attractive, and her daughter, who looks to be a few years older than Sophia, but not enough to matter.
Arizona wonders if they’ve ever talked before. Sophia had tons of friends at their old apartment complex. She probably forgets now, but all the kids on their floor used to have the cutest little playdates. That was back when she was happy, before she knew just how fucked up things could get.
It’s not long at all until the speaker dings and the elevator doors slide open. The woman and her daughter leave first, both smiling politely at Arizona before starting down the hallway. Arizona lingers for a moment, taking in the sight in front of her. It’s a nice place, quiet and peaceful, exactly the kind of place Callie would want to live, the kind of place she and Callie would have wanted to live.
Arizona slips out of the elevator and into the hallway just before the doors are about to click shut, hearing them close behind her. She stands there for just a moment before she grabs her phone and unlocks it, scrolling through her text messages to confirm the room number.
- Only a few doors down and to the right. Her feet take her there before her mind catches up, and before she knows it, she’s standing in front of a large oak door. The nonchalance from the elevator has faded slightly, and the alcohol is starting to hit her weirdly.
Arizona raps on the door with her knuckles, loud enough that the sound echoes through the hallway. She’s early, but she imagines Callie won’t mind. Callie’s always been the early type, so she might even appreciate it.
She stands there for a moment, shifting her feet and tapping her fingers together in soothing rhythms, distracting herself from the dramatic impending doom she feels. Her nervous system does not think seeing Callie right now is a good idea, and where she thought the alcohol would help relax her, it only succeeded in making her feel queasy.
She almost leaves. Callie is taking so long, and she keeps darting her eyes at the emergency stairs directly to her left, thinking about how easy it would be to slide in and act like she forgot it was her night. It’s not like Callie would be surprised.
Unfortunately, just as she’s about to turn and run, accepting she’ll have to wait till next weekend to see her daughter, Callie opens the door.
She’s clad in a tight bathrobe, her body mostly covered but still somehow obviously exposed and ready for scrutiny. Her hair is pulled back and styled in an intentionally messy, sexy sort of way that means Callie is getting ready for a date.
She looks good, really good. Arizona salivates for only a moment before she controls herself, reminding herself that she’s looking at her ex-wife, who is very obviously getting ready for a date with another woman or man that is not her. Still, the space between her legs throbs pleasantly, in a way she can’t ignore and will have to deal with later.
“Arizona? You’re early,” Callie says, surprise and confusion evident in her voice.
Callie clearly was not expecting Arizona yet; that much is evident almost immediately. She has half of her makeup done, and her robe is coming more and more loose by the second as they stand there looking at each other. It opens slightly, and then Arizona has a decently clear view of her cleavage. Her eyes land on it immediately, and she has to pinch her hand behind her back to stop herself from salivating.
Callie clocks both the alcohol and the desire in Arizona’s eyes almost immediately. She ignores the former and addresses the latter by pulling her robe tighter around her body, wrapping her arms around her middle. It’s a poor attempt to cover herself; they both see right through it, but Callie does it anyway, shifting awkwardly. Arizona’s heart hurts only slightly at the fact that the woman she still loves dearly has suddenly decided to feel uncomfortable around her. She doesn’t know what stage of divorce grief that is, but it seems like acceptance, which she herself is nowhere near.
“I know I’m early, I can come back later if you want. I just wanted to get Sophia early so we could have more time together,” Arizona says, holding eye contact to convey her sincerity. She really did not want to ambush Callie like this at all; she just wanted to retrieve her daughter, take her home, and go to bed.
“No, no. Of course, you don’t have to do that, Arizona. You know you can come over for her anytime you want,” Callie responds, a hint of guilt flashing in her features for making this situation unnecessarily uncomfortable. “I just figured, since you weren’t at work today, that you wouldn’t be early. You don’t seem like you’ve been doing well lately.”
Arizona frowns, “I wasn’t feeling well. You… I’m fine. You know I’ll be fine.”
Callie lets her eyes flick over Arizona’s form. She certainly doesn’t look fine. She’s too skinny now, she looks dead tired, and Callie can smell the alcohol even when they aren’t even close to each other.
“I know you say that, but you really don’t look too good. Are you sure you’re okay?” Callie asks, before she can stop herself. It’s an old hat, really. Being caring.
Arizona’s frown deepens. Why on earth would Callie say that? Why would she think she has the right to comment on anything, much less Arizona’s mental state, and this time in person? A sudden, intense bitterness washes over Arizona, plaguing her thoughts and deepening her gaze into more of a glare. Callie looks away almost immediately, darting her eyes to the empty hall behind Arizona and bracing herself for this conversation.
“Calliope, I’m fine. It’s not your place to be intruding on my life anymore,” she says, her voice clipped and very obviously angry. She rubs her hands against her jeans to ground herself.
“Of course. I’m sorry,” Callie responds quickly, immediately conceding, letting Arizona have this one. She knows she’s in the wrong with this one. She has to keep reminding herself that Arizona is not her problem anymore, that she needs to stop worrying about her, checking up on her, and feeling like she owes her something. It’s just hard. A part of her will always love Arizona, even if the part is almost always buried deep within.
“Thank you. Now, can I see my daughter?” Arizona says, her voice clipped but less intense. She’s taking deep, calming breaths, trying to regulate her nervous system back to a normal functioning rate. She can’t quite manage to be normal right now, and the alcohol and the tension in the air are not doing her any favors.
“Yes. Let me go get her. You can come in,” Callie says, moving back from the door and ushering Arizona in, leaving her no choice but to concede and step in.
Arizona complies out of mere obligation, stepping through the doorway and watching Callie’s figure retreat to the hallway opposite the door. Arizona, despite herself, does take the opportunity to glance around the entryway, looking at the array of decor they bought together for their last house that is littering the shelves and the various pictures on the wall, including the one of Mark, Callie, and her, holding Sophia the day she was finally able to come home.
Her eyes linger on the photo, a frozen moment of happier times, before she averts her eyes and takes in the rest of the room, taking a few steps forward and flipping through the magazines on one of the tables in the corner. They’re all medicine publications, and she reads through a few, letting her mind float away from her ex-wife and to her career, until Callie is back, Sophia trailing behind her happily, holding a duffel bag that is disproportionately large on her frame.
Arizona has lovingly coined her daughter as an overgrown toddler recently. She’s getting a bit too big to be acting the way she does. Arizona loves it, honestly. Her daughter is the one reprieve she has from real life, and if she’s able to ignore her striking resemblance to Callie, Arizona really does find her quite cute. She still has all the good characteristics of kids, funny, cuddly, and obsessed with both of her mothers.
Sophia quite literally squeals when she sees Arizona, jumping into the air cinematically and running to her mother, dodging Callie on the way. Arizona is able to bend down just in time to avoid a collision and scoop her daughter into her arms lovingly. She peppers her face with kisses dramatically. Her mood is briefly lightened.
Sophia is normally never this excited to see Arizona. This is the sort of thing she always does with Callie, the obnoxious, overt displays of mother-daughter affection, but rarely to Arizona. She knows their daughter’s love is not a competition, but she can’t help but be a little smug that she won anyway.
Arizona looks up and finds Callie smiling down at them, effectively crushing all the joy that had built up the moment Callie left her mind and Sophia entered. It’s the stupid smile that Callie makes when she finds something cute, the one that Arizona quite frankly hates. It’s too wide and slightly conceded-looking.
Arizona straightens up at the sight, patting her daughter's head offhandedly and pushing her off slightly, leaving her to wrap her arms around her legs needily. Sophia doesn’t protest, setting her duffle bag down by the door and clinging to Arizona’s legs, looking up at her. Callie’s smile doesn’t fade, and the two women talk as if Sophia isn’t in the room.
“She really loves you, Arizona. You know that, right?” Callie says, her voice soft with something that sounds almost like affection, almost like love, making Arizona cringe. Callie’s eyes hold a twinkle that they shouldn’t, especially considering she’s dressed to go on a date with someone who isn’t Arizona.
“We should get going. I can see that you have plans tonight,” Arizona says, her voice suddenly much colder than it ever is, and her eyes narrowed just slightly. Jealousy is evident in every corner of her body. Her mood always switches so rapidly, and Callie is left chasing after her, trying to understand the woman.
Callie frowns, like she couldn’t tell that this is where this interaction was going to end up, and is now surprised, like she figured Arizona either didn’t know or didn’t care she was seeing someone tonight. Sophia seems to notice she’s not wanted, glancing up at her two moms for a moment and failing to get their attention, then scampering off to play in her room.
“Arizona. That’s not fair. It’s not fair for you to be like that,” Callie says, her eyebrows scrunched in something akin to disappointment. Arizona can tell Callie was hoping this would be different. Words flow between them before they can be stopped.
“No! What’s not fair is you leaving me! You left me, divorced me, but still have the nerve to act like we’re together! Like you even give a fuck about me anymore!” Arizona replies, her voice rising, high-pitched with anger and incredulity. Callie’s eyebrows shoot up, and she glances behind her, making sure Sophia isn’t snooping, which, thankfully, she isn’t.
“Arizona. You need to calm down. Okay? I know things have been rough lately, but you can’t keep acting like this. I mean, skipping work, always being drunk, that’s not you,” Callie says genuinely, a hint of desperation in her voice. She doesn’t know when things changed, when Arizona became that kind of woman, and she feels slightly concerned in the face of realization.
“Are you serious!?” Arizona says, eyeing Callie like she’s stupid, her voice a bit manic and still highly incredulous, “This is what I mean! You have NO idea what you’re talking about! You don’t get to do this to me!”
Arizona’s hands rise to her head, pulling at the roots of her hair slightly, trying to no avail to calm herself down. Callie eyes her like she’s a frightened animal, ready to bolt at any minute, and holds her palms up in a sign of peace.
“Arizona. Hey… I’m not trying to speak for you or accuse you or anything. Okay?” Callie says, her voice soft and soothing. She moves closer to Arizona slowly and ever so gently pulls her hands out of her hair and back down to her side. She holds them there for a moment, feeling them shake violently and watching Arizona take deep breaths, her eyes trained on the ground, tears welling up.
It takes a few minutes for Arizona to come back to herself, but she does eventually. Suddenly, she goes from being unrecognizable to looking exactly like the woman Callie married. Tears stream down her cheeks, and she looks so, so small.
“I’m sorry. I don’t… I’m sorry. I should go,” she says, her eyes darting around the room before they land on the duffel bag still in the middle of the floor. “Sophia. Can’t forget her,” Arizona laughs nervously. “Can you go get Sophia?”
Callie nods, “Yes. It’s okay, and yes, I can go get Sophia.”
She does just that, retreating to the bedroom where Sophia is playing, undisturbed. Arizona watches them come out hand in hand, feeling terrible, unadulterated shame and embarrassment rise into her chest and overwhelm her figure. She suddenly regrets everything about the night: the alcohol, her temper, the meltdown. Everything. She feels like a child who can’t control herself.
“Let’s go, Momma!” Sophia announces, still young enough that she doesn’t understand the tension in the room.
Arizona nods, wiping her tears and picking up the duffel bag of Sophia’s things, opening the door without a word and not daring a glance back. They leave like that, and Callie is left standing in the middle of her entryway in a bathrobe with a shocked look on her face, more lost with her ex-wife than she ever has been before.
____________
Arizona sits in her bedroom, knocking back shot after shot like it’s going out of style. Trying for her daughter’s sake to keep it down. Arizona is still cognitive enough to realize the walls are thin and the five-year-old doesn’t need to hear the evidence of her mother’s life crumbling around her.
She paces around the room, feeling reminiscent of an animal pacing around their cage at the zoo, trapped and suffocating.
A scene plays in her mind. The therapist's office. Callie said something that Arizona thinks about almost every day, whether she’s happy, sad, wasted, or completely sober.
I want so much for you, Arizona.
What an obvious fucking lie.
Callie can swear again and again that she loved Arizona when they were married, but Arizona will never believe that. If she really did love her, if she really did care, then she wouldn’t have said that in the therapist's office. She would’t have had to because they wouldn’t have gotten a divorce.
Callie ruined their marriage. In the same way that Callie ruins everything. It’s no surprise that everyone in Callie’s life leaves her. No surprise she’s on her millionth breakup and second divorce. She obliterates the people around her without a care in the world, and she still thinks everyone else does it to her. The self-serving cunt still thinks that she’s the villain.
She has no right to be talking to Arizona like they are still together, like she gives a fuck about her future. If she didn’t want her to be like this, she shouldn’t have left her without a care in the world.
Arizona sits back down on the bed, tears forming in her eyes. She closes them tight, allowing the tears to stream down her face and sobs to come from her mouth. She has never been so absolutely miserable.