The Universe and Its Methods
Why do bad things happen? Is it to test a person's will? Make them stronger in the long run? Do they deserve it because of some past transgression? Or is the universe just completely random in its punishments, the hurt it causes?
To Callie it doesn't feel random. This is a consistent theme of her life, one she is familiar with on the most intimate of levels: grief; suffering. Once one round is finished, another begins without pause or consideration. Honestly, she'd come to expect it around every victory, after every happy moment.
Then she married Arizona.
Life had reached her pinnacle of perfection then. She was with the woman she loved, had a healthy daughter who would have a present father, what could possibly destroy this stability, this feeling of wholeness?
A plane crash, apparently.
There was this hole forming in Callie's chest that only grew larger when she thought of her best friend's death. She couldn't even bring herself to think of what she did to Arizona, because if she did, her pain might finally consume her and take her marriage with it. If there was any way to protect Arizona, it was by doing this, at least that's what she thought while she sobbed out in the living room every night.
Even approaching midnight when the whole world was still, Callie could feel the resentment seeping through the bedroom walls. Forgiveness seemed like the stuff of fairytales at this point, and even if it weren't Arizona wasn't willing to try. Callie couldn't blame her entirely, but that didn't keep her from wanting her wife to at least look at her without blatant hatred. Maybe kiss her for once. But according to the blonde, that was asking for everything.
So here Callie was, hovering outside the bedroom door, wanting to walk in and hold her Arizona and forget everything that happened. Still though, spiteful words tore through her mind like razor wire. She ruined Arizona's life, and there was no taking it back. She hurt the person she loves more than anything. Again.
And Mark died.
There's honestly nothing else the universe can take away. The only thing left is Sofia, who almost has one parent. Arizona doesn't really want to help, or can't. Callie chooses to think that it is the latter, because the thought of the blonde no longer caring about their family makes her want to curl up into a ball and give up on everything. She can't though, at least not yet. Someone has to keep trying, and it obviously has to be Callie.
The door creaked loudly as it swung open, causing the brunette to wince and expect some kind of retaliation at her entry, but none was forthcoming. Through the darkness the mass on the bed remained completely motionless. Whether Arizona was ignoring her presence or was too angry to acknowledge it, Callie could not be sure.
"Arizona?" Callie whispered brokenly. Any kind of response, even a bitter remark, was welcome.
A dead silence fell over the room instead. She didn't even shift. Nothing.
"Can I lay next to you?"
This time Arizona pulled the blanket tighter around her, sending off the clear rejection of that idea.
The brunette let out the breath she was holding, not bothering to hide her disappointment. There was no point anyway; each knew how the other felt about the situation. "I'll just sit on the floor, then."
From her position on the floor, barely any of Arizona was visible. Only pale hair glinted in the dim light coming from the still open door. Callie wanted to run her fingers through it like she used to, back before all of this. It used to calm the both of them. Arizona would always get this small content smile every time. God, how she missed that.
"Do you hate me?" Callie finally forced out, arms wrapped around herself to keep at least some control.
The tears were unavoidable, just like before, when she tried to get her out of bed. She wanted so desperately to give into them and climb into Arizona's arms. But here she was, sitting on the cold floor, in almost darkness. "Do you want me to leave? For good?" Her voice was almost too small to be heard, but she knew the blonde could hear her. "That seems to be what you want."
She sat there for what felt like an hour, waiting for something, anything. Her eyes were beginning to drift close for the first time in days. Ever since she found out about the plane crash sleep was elusive, but then the ensuing distance from her wife only made it worse. Callie supposed the proximity to Arizona was making it easier to pretend that they were having some stupid fight and if she slept finally, maybe things would be better in the morning. She knew better, of course, but there was nothing wrong with imagining.
"You know after finding out you slept with Mark, I thought there was nothing you could do to hurt me more. That was it. It was as bad as it could get for me then," Arizona's voice was flat and emotionless, almost like she was talking about someone else's life. "But then you broke your promise to me."
Callie sat there and listened without a sound, because this is what she deserved for earlier. How could she expect something like this to just go away? What Callie said was out of frustration and pain, but it was still a lot to ask, given the circumstances.
Turning over, Arizona locked eyes with Callie. "That isn't something that just goes away for me."
"I know, I'm sorry. I just didn't want either of us to hurt anymore after everything with Mark, and then I do this to you. I don't know how to fix this."
Arizona just watched the emotions flit across her partner's face. How are you supposed to respond to the person who changed your life irrevocably?
When the brunette thought she couldn't take it anymore and began to stand, a soft voice stopped her. "Don't leave."
After pausing in disbelief for a few seconds, Callie slowly lowered herself back down to the floor. It wasn't forgiveness, but it was definitely something.
"What do you want me to do?"
Bright blue eyes stared unblinkingly at the brunette's fatigue-worn face, taking in each line and wrinkle that had formed over the past month as a result of everything. "Just sit right there."
Callie stayed there for the rest of the night, even after Arizona fell asleep. She wanted to hold her hand again, or just touch her at all, but she knew what would happen.
For now, this was enough.
I might write more for this, but I'm not sure yet. Tell me what you think.