Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy

Author's Note: I know there are a tons of opinions about the current storyline and, more importantly, about Mark being in it. And I know that Mark is not everyone's favorite character. But I think Mark and Arizona's relationship has changed since the Musical episode and I have to stay that I'm incredibly excited to see where it goes. So I wrote this. And I hope you all enjoy it.

Summary: After Callie's return to consciousness, Arizona and Mark have a talk.


You and Me-
-A Story

Arizona Robbins had been here before.

It was all the same. Just the way she remembered it. Even if she wanted to forget. Even if this was the last place on earth she wanted to be. Even if the last time had happened clear across the country.

It was all the same.

Eerily so.

Spring was blossoming around them. Flowers bloomed. A gentle breeze. A clear blue sky, so unusual for Seattle. Yet so fittingly perfect.

She would have wanted it this way.

It was days like this that Callie loved the most.

And so it was fitting.

Fitting that her final resting place, her remembrance, would be served on a day that was nothing but bright. Nothing but beautiful. Clear. Almost happy.

Despite the storm that Arizona felt swirling within herself.

A sob caught in Arizona's throat.

There had been nothing she could do. Nothing to stop the horrible events from happening. Nothing to stop them from being where they now were.

Pine Groves Cemetary.

She had asked Calliope to marry her and a truck came out of nowhere.

Nowhere.

Arizona choked on the sob and she whimpered. Somewhere nearby she was aware of her mother placing a comforting hand on her shoulder; of Teddy grasping her hand just the slightest bit tighter. Of their colleagues gathered around, listening to Father Kevin speak. Of Calliope's parents silently crying across the grave.

Of Mark standing next to the only crib his daughter would know; a cherry oak coffin.

So beautiful. So tiny.

She had waited for the ambulance to arrive. Franticly screaming for someone to help, the truck driver watching nearby; unmoving.

She couldn't move Callie in risk of even more damage. So she simply stood, kneeling beside the car. Keeping her eyes locked with the brown before her. So much pain, so much fear. Trying desperately to block out the whimpers of pain with her own words of reassurance.

"Help is on the way."

"I'm so sorry."

"I love you."

"You're going to be alright, Calliope."

"I love you"

"I love you."

I love you.

But then Callie's eyes had slipped shut and her labored breathing stopped.

And Arizona had screamed. She screamed for Callie to open her eyes. But she didn't move. Didn't budge. And so she had acted. Using every single ounce of strength she had to carefully move Callie onto her back. To perform CPR and anything else she could think of.

Life before limb.

Too much blood. Too much pain. There wasn't enough oxygen in the world to give life back to her Calliope. To their baby.

She had been dead before the ambulance had arrived.

Arizona would never forget the haunting sound of their sirens.

And when they had arrived at the hospital and the doors had opened, she couldn't look at the faces of her colleagues as the medic quietly announced: "We just need someone to call it."

She may not have looked. But she didn't need to. Not to see their pain.

Not to feel it.

She asked Calliope to marry her and a truck came out of nowhere.

Slowly, Father Kevin stopped speaking. And the two coffins were lowered into the earth.

And Arizona could no longer keep her tears at bay.

She sobbed. Tears falling harder and faster. Her breaths coming in short gasps. Her heart beating wildly.

And she prayed. Prayed to a God she didn't know existed to take her. To take away her pain. To take her with. To bury her too.

But her wish was for naught. The sun continued to shine. The birds chirped. The cool breeze picked up.

Spring. Rebirth.

Arizona laughed.

Hardly.

Death.

Yes, Arizona Robbins had been here before. And it was, it seemed, all the same.

But, she knew, it wasn't. It couldn't be.

Because last time she had received a flag.

This time, though…

This time she received nothing.

Nothing.


Arizona woke with a shock.

Her pulse raced and her breathing was labored. Her mind disoriented. She looked around frantically. Where was she? It had to have been a dream. It couldn't have been real. She wouldn't be able to live if it was.

Slowly her surroundings came into focus.

The bright hospital lights. Callie, sleeping in her bed; her chest rising and falling. The quiet beeping of the monitors.
Music to her ears.

Arizona whimpered.

She was in Callie's hospital room. On the cot that Bailey had brought in two days ago.

A dream.

A dream.

Callie was alive. The baby was alive. They were getting married.

Married.

Arizona wiped furiously at her eyes, only now realizing that her cheeks were soaked.

"Are you okay?"

Arizona jumped at the sound, turning to see Mark entering the room; a large tray of food balanced on one hand.

"I—f-f-fine," Arizona spluttered, turning her head and wiping her eyes and cheeks. "H-h-how's…baby?" She managed to get out, knowing her heart wouldn't stop racing until she knew that both Calliope and their daughter were okay.

"She's good," Mark said, his eyes lighting slightly as he thought about the tiny bundle in the NICU. "Or as good as she can be."

Arizona nodded, feeling a small weight lift from her heart. But it didn't seem to stop her tears. Instead, they multiplied. Falling harder and faster.

Even as she tried to stop it.

She wondered how she wasn't drowning.

Arizona whimpered again and covered her face in her hands.

They were alive. They were okay.

A truck came out of nowhere.

Mark stood nearby, his eyes widening as she continued to break down.

During the past two days, she and Mark had danced around each other. Not arguing. Not really speaking. Just-dancing. When a doctor filled them in on Callie's slowly improving condition they would reach a silent understanding; give a similar opinion. No more apologies had been made. No more threats or harsh words. They existed as best they knew how.

It was not perfect.

But they were learning.

Slowly, Mark set the tray on the table attached to Callie's bed, sending a fleeting glance to his best friend. She continued to sleep soundly, despite the noise in the room.

Sedatives really were a God-send.

Mark walked around the bed and approached the cot; carefully sitting down next to the weeping blonde. He paused, his arm outstretched almost as if not knowing what to do, until he gently laid his hand on Arizona's shoulder.

And the damn broke.

Arizona doubled over, unable to stop it any longer. She turned, curling her body into Mark's side, clutching onto him by a fist of his shirt.

Mark pulled her closer, wrapping his arms tightly around her middle.

Just holding.

Holding as Arizona's resolve dwindled to nothing.

Neither spoke. The only sound coming from Arizona's gasping breaths, Callie's steady ones, and the beeping of her monitors.

After what Arizona was certain felt like hours, she felt herself beginning to calm. Finally able to breathe. She gasped, filling her lungs with as much oxygen as possible.

She was okay. They were okay. Everything was going to be okay.

She had to keep reminding herself, despite the devil sitting on her shoulder.

When her breathing returned to a semblance of normal, she felt Mark shift against her before his weight returned, holding a tissue in front of her face.

"Thanks," she hiccupped, taking the tissue and haphazardly whipping at her face and nose.

"You, uh, want to tell me what that was about?" Mark asked.

Arizona shrugged, pushing away from his embrace to lean against the wall; pulling her knees to her chest. "Bad dream," Arizona muttered, closing her eyes and focusing on her breathing. She could feel normal just out of her reach.

But then she wondered…what was normal?

Certainly not this.

"They're both going to be okay," Mark said, his tone so final that there would be no arguing. Despite the hills and battles that lie ahead for both Callie and the baby.

When had she become the pessimistic one?

"It was just…," Arizona paused, her eyes opening. She stared at Callie, daring the body to be anything other than alive. "So real."

Mark nodded and they fell into a small silence.

"When was the last time you ate?" Mark asked after a while.

Arizona shrugged. "I don't really remember." And it was the truth.

Mark sat forward again, pulling the table attached to Callie's bed until it was within their reach. "I brought enough for all of us."

Arizona was going to refuse but then her stomach gave a loud growl and she knew she had to comply.

"I was thinking of something more substantial," Mark said, an amused grin on his face when Arizona grabbed an orange Jello cup.

"Dessert first," Arizona said around her already-third-mouthful. "It's the rule."

"It's a wonder parents let you around their children," Mark said, his eyes sparkling slightly with the mirth that was once present before their world had been turned upside down.

"They have no choice; it's why their kids love me."

"Feeling any better?" Mark asked when Arizona reached for a salad and dug in, half of it disappearing before she even realized it. She took a long drink of water.

"I'll be fine once we're all back home."

Mark nodded.

They fell into silence again, Arizona eating her salad as Mark finally picked up an apple. His crisp bite filled the air.

Her heart rate was returning to normal, Arizona could feel it. She felt light, for the first time in days. Though she hated crying, she knew her most recent break was the reason she was feeling better.

That and this food.

Cafeteria food had never tasted so good.

God she was hungry.

"I'm glad you're going to sit in on her surgery tomorrow," Mark said after a moment, shyly looking at Arizona through his peripheral.

"Yeah?" She didn't have to ask to know whose surgery he was referring to.

Mark nodded. "Stark's an idiot. I'm glad you'll be able to give our family a voice."

Arizona felt her heart beat wildly again.

Family.

She watched as Mark continued to eat his apple, trying to look like he wasn't looking at her. Wasn't waiting for a reaction.

Normally, she would have been shocked at Mark's quiet admission. But under the circumstances, she couldn't. Over the past few days, when talk about the baby's treatment had come up Mark would voice his opinion but then defer to her. Waiting for her to make the final judgment call.

Perhaps it was because she had been the one to make the baby's heart beat. Or, perhaps it was because—mother or not-this was her job. And she was damn good at it. She hadn't asked. Nor did she care. She would take any opportunity to cement herself as one of the baby's caretakers.

Family.

This was her family now. Calliope. The baby. Mark.

Perhaps she and Mark had been opposed to it at first. Each for their own reasons. Each not willing to budge. Their prides far too large to make room for the other.

Family.

But they were connected now. They were a family.

And, Arizona was slowly coming to realize, perhaps Mark being a part of that family wasn't all that bad.

She knew it would take both of them a while to accept it.

But this.

Here.

It was a start.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They fell into silence as they continued to eat. Watching Callie's sleeping form. Arizona zeroed in on Callie's rising chest. She had always had an appreciation for that part of her girlfriend's-her fiancé's-body. But right now, Arizona was certain that she had never been more memorized.

It was moving.

And she was alive.

A truck came out of nowhere.

And they were getting married.

"God," Mark sighed, leaning his head back against the wall behind them.

Arizona took a large bite of salad, raising her brow in question. She continued to chew.

"Once we get both of them home, neither are leaving until-."

"The baby is thirty." They finished together.

Mark and Arizona laughed. Together, quietly. Genuinely.

They laughed.

"Cheers, Robbins," Mark said, grabbing his own water bottle and holding it out to her.

A true peace offering.

Arizona grabbed her own bottle. The two clinked together with a soft crinkle.

"Cheers, Mark."

Fin