Work Text:
She’d let Callie kiss her the night before.
She’d been excited about her first day back and nervous and had tried to channel it into helping Callie, who seemed even more excited and nervous over her presentation. And she’d flirted and then…
Callie had kissed her.
The memory of her lips set firmly against Arizona’s clung to her all night. Kept her from sleeping. So when she finally did sleep she slept longer than necessary. Came in late. On her first day back. Saw Callie again.
And it was awkward.
Angry and quiet she got. She was good at being angry and quiet and Callie was good at being angry and quiet. Demurely polite? That was another one they could both handle just fine.
But last night she’d gotten flirty. The giddiness of getting back to work and forgetting everything got her pumped up and she got flirty. And then Callie responded. And she kissed her. And hadn’t slept. And was tired. And happier than she could ever remember.
And then she’d fallen.
It had just been a second. One scant second after the surgery. Alex and Kepner were looking at her with pride and respect and she’d saved a kid and was on the post-surgery high and she’d spun on her right heel and taken a step with her left and crashed to the ground.
Because she didn’t have a left foot. Her leg ended well above where her knee had been and it was sweaty and itchy in the socket and she put all her weight on the wrong part of it and there hadn’t been a beautifully engineered leg of muscles and tendons and bones to correct a minor mistake and she’d smacked against the floor—seeing stars and jarring her wrists.
She didn’t have a foot. She didn’t even care that people were staring and Alex was panicking and rushing them all out of the room. She didn’t have a foot. She’d just gone and fallen. She could see her arms windmilling in her head. The look on that weird intern’s face as she fell. Her mouth hung open and forming a big “O.”
Alex ran up and gently touched her. Terrified she’d hurt herself. Like a fall could hurt. Sure. Falling from a plane and getting ripped up and breaking your leg? Ouch. Falling over in the OR because you didn’t have a foot? Not so ouch. She’d fallen so many times over the last month she’d become an expert. She could write books on technique and probably train stuntmen.
She flipped over and saw Alex’s face. His concern. Over a fall and she laughed right in his face. He grinned when she explained. Didn’t look at her like she was cracked or like he was secretly worried. Just smiled. Because it was ridiculous. She’d fallen from a plane and he’d freaked out over a stumble in the OR.
He helped her up and kept his arm around her torso until they were back in the scrub room where her cane rested against the wall. As soon as the cane was in sight his hand dropped down to his side. It was abrupt and obvious and it made it all the funnier. But she bit back the laughter this time.
This was how it was going to be from now on. Everyone waiting for her to break and walking on eggshells. A little annoying because hello, survived a plane crash and that usually means one is kind of awesome and fairly impervious. But the looks. It was going to be worth it for the looks on their faces when she didn’t cry or get mad or freak out.
She was still Arizona Robbins. A little of her had been scooped out but the rest of her was settling—easing into place and filling the hole the loss had created. She wouldn’t be the same. She couldn’t be. Old Arizona wouldn’t be breathless walking from one floor to the next and old Arizona could jog. New Arizona needed a cane and sometimes needed to stretch. But she was still herself in there. And they didn’t know it.
Not yet.
“You gonna stand there staring or you gonna talk to the parents,” Alex asked gruffly—swiftly slipping back into place just like the rest of the world around her.
“I am,” she said. She scooped up her cane and made it to the door. Pausing briefly to wonder whether she should ask Alex not to say anything to Callie. Her wife was being protective and awkward. The former since forever and the latter since last night. She’d probably try to hunt down everyone who’d seen the fall and make them swear a blood oath of silence.
It wasn’t necessary. A month ago she’d be right there next to Callie. Now she was still thinking about that intern’s face and trying not to giggle.
She didn’t need to tell Callie. Callie would hear or she wouldn’t and Arizona found she didn’t care. Not what they thought and not even how Callie might react. She hobbled down the hall, the movement after hours on her feet making the whole lower half of her body protest due to fatigue.
She’d kissed Callie. She’d performed surgery. She’d busted Karev’s balls. Everything was shifting. Not just in her but all around her. She’d forgotten that. After Tim died the world had changed and she had never thought it would get better. It would just forever be dark and miserable.
But day by day things returned to normal—only a little different. And it was happening again. She’d kissed Callie and the world righted itself.