I started writing this three years ago, right after Callie left, and when the song 11 Blocks, which inspired it, was actually relevant. That's when this story is set. Three years after Callie left, in an AU of my own making.

I'm still devastated that Arizona Robbins' story is over on Grey's. Devastated doesn't even encompass it, really. I'm trying to get back into writing and I really liked this piece so I thought I'd post it. I'm also working on updates for my other stories. I feel like they really don't reflect me as a writer with all that I've learned and grown, but I'll finish them before I fix them. I think I needed a little happiness in my life and Calzona makes me happy. Law school is a very specific flavor of hell. Also, side note, Wrabel is a queer icon and should be appreciated far more. Reviews are very much appreciated.

"And we're back on NPR! Our next guest is Dr. Arizona Robbins, Pediatric and Fetal surgeon extraordinaire, and now a New York Times bestselling author. Thank you for joining us, Dr. Robbins."

"Thank you for having me. I'm honored to be here. And please, call me Arizona."

"Okay, Arizona. So, 'Good Man in a Storm', your first book, is an autobiography. How did you decide you wanted to share your story with the world?"

"I actually was so shocked when my publisher approached me a year and a half ago after I spoke at a conference about fetal surgery. She said she thought that I should write an autobiography and that people needed to hear my story. At first, I was resistant, but she talked me into it. Well, she did eventually. I'm just super shocked so many people have read it."

"I'm certainly not. You're a very talented writer and your story is captivating…"

XXX

The past three years had been very kind to Arizona. Unexpectedly so. As it turns out, when you throw yourself into your career because you're heartbroken that your daughter and the woman you love, who doesn't love you back, have moved across the country, you can accomplish quite a lot.

Arizona didn't expect to be dubbed one of America's foremost fetal surgeons. She didn't expect to be featured in many prominent medical magazines, and she didn't expect she'd be asked to speak at conferences across the globe to talk about her not one, but two successful clinical trials in fetal medicine.

Arizona certainly never expected that she'd become last year's Catherine Fox Award winner for her innovations in treating hypoplastic left heart syndrome in utero. She was at the forefront of her field, at the top of her game, at the pinnacle of her career, and yet she was positively floored when she was approached quite persistently about writing an autobiography. It took some convincing, but Arizona eventually agreed. Imagine her surprise when it became a New York Times bestseller.

When her agent – who she reluctantly hired, because apparently, Arizona needed both a publisher and an agent – suggested she consider splitting her time between New York and Seattle, it was an immediate no. She had patients, residents, fellows, and clinical trials. She was on the board of the hospital. She couldn't be in two places at once.

It wasn't until Arizona thought about how much more time she could spend with Sofia while giving interviews and promoting her book, that she found herself signing the lease to an apartment exactly 11 blocks away from Callie's.

And things were good – great, even. Arizona was able to juggle her lives in New York and Seattle and see Sofia often. She and Callie were getting along. They were friendly, even, grabbing coffee from time to time. One day, a distinct glimmer on the strong hand wrapped around a coffee cup caught Arizona's eye. It blinded her. It blindsided her. Callie had gotten engaged.

And there were nights where Arizona felt alone, painfully aware that she was only 11 blocks away from Callie.

It felt too close.

But she wasn't alone. Arizona had met someone and could swear she was in love. And her girlfriend was beautiful, smart, funny – everything Arizona looked for in a girl. She was perfect. Almost.

She just wasn't Callie.

There was a huge black-tie party in a lavish hotel ballroom to celebrate Arizona's book making the New York Times bestseller list. Prominent people in the medical field from all over the world flew in for the occasion. The whole Grey-Sloan gang came to show their support. Her parents were there, and Sofia was sitting between them, looking gorgeous and so much like her Mama in a merlot gown. Arizona's girlfriend was there with a proud grin on her face. Everyone came.

Everyone except Callie.

She'd been invited. Arizona even told her that she could bring Penny as her plus one. But Callie didn't do stuffy parties in fancy hotels. At least, not when she didn't have to. She went to enough of them as a kid.

And still, Arizona found herself scanning the room over and over again from the podium where she was supposed to make a speech and then answer questions. There were literally hundreds of people there to support and celebrate Arizona, but none of them were Callie. It was only 14 blocks from her apartment. Arizona found herself counting on the way.

She took a deep breath, trying not to let her disappointment show. It had been three years. Callie had moved on. Arizona thought she had, too.

Arizona had a girlfriend, for God's sake. And her girlfriend was so compassionate and kind. Arizona knew she should love her. She had every reason to love her, and Arizona did love her.

Maybe just not as much as she loved Callie.

The guilt was heavy. Her girlfriend deserved more than to spend her life being compared to the incomparable. To the love of her life. The one that got away.

The applause petered out, and the room went silent. Everyone was staring at Arizona, waiting for her to speak. So, after a moment, she smiled and began.

"Most people think I was named for the state, but that's not true. I was named for a battleship. The U.S.S. Arizona. My grandfather, Captain Timothy Robbins of the U.S. Navy, was serving on the Arizona when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, and he saved nineteen men before he drowned. Pretty much everything my father did his whole life was about honoring that sacrifice. My brother, Sergeant Timothy Robbins of the U.S. Army, honored that sacrifice to the highest degree possible. He gave his life for this nation, and not a day goes by that I don't miss him. I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that I wouldn't be the woman I am today without him." Tears threatened to flood azure eyes, but Arizona still smiled.

"My family loves this country the way some love their God. I was raised to be a good man in a storm. I was raised to love my country, and to love my family. I was raised to protect the things I love. When my father, Colonel Daniel Robbins of the United States Marine Corp, heard that I was a lesbian, he said he only had one question. I was prepared for, 'How fast can you get the hell out of my house?' But instead, it was, 'Are you still who I raised you to be?'"

Arizona looked directly at her father and smiled. "I like to think that I am, Dad. I try to be a good man in a storm. For Grandpa, for Tim, for you, and for Sofia. My life has just brought quite a few storms over the years," she said with a dry chuckle.

"I have survived growing up a gay military brat with the name Arizona, and, as if that wasn't challenging enough, I've also survived losing my brother, losing friends, a shooting, a car crash, a plane crash, and losing my leg. My life has brought many hardships, but it's also brought many triumphs. I was the youngest pediatric surgery attending at Seattle Grace Hospital, and then I was the youngest Chief of Pediatric Surgery. I won the Carter Madison Award. I learned to navigate life with only one leg. I bought part of a hospital. I finished a fetal surgery fellowship, and I won the Catherine Fox Award. But the greatest accomplishment of my entire life is sitting right there," Arizona said, pointing at her grinning daughter. "My daughter, Sofia. She was born at 23 weeks. She and her other mother almost died in a car accident, but they both survived. She's my miracle." Arizona couldn't hide the mile-wide grin on her face.

"I want everyone who reads my story to know that circumstance can't hold you back unless you let it. I used to let my leg hold me back. It took me a long time to see that I'm not any less the person I used to be. I am not incomplete. I am everything I used to be. Possibly more – far stronger and wiser. I want everyone who thinks that they're broken, or weak, or unnatural to know that you're not. That you deserve every opportunity the world has to offer. Like me, you're not any less than whole. You can still be a good man in a storm. Thank you." Arizona said, being met with thunderous applause.

And somehow, for some reason, with hundreds of people applauding her, Arizona felt incredibly alone. She felt empty.

Once the applause petered to a halt, her agent lined up a few people to ask questions.

"Dr. Robbins, what is the best part of your job?" One reporter asked.

"Saving tiny humans," Arizona replied, not missing a beat.

"Arizona, do you think you'll write another book?"

Arizona shook her head. "I'm a surgeon, not an author. I told my story, and now I'm going to scrub back into the OR."

"Dr. Robbins, do you think you'll stay in New York?"

"That remains to be seen," Arizona answered, honestly unsure of where she'd find herself once the press moved on from her book. She'd received some job offers from prominent hospitals in New York, and after getting to see Sofia regularly and often, Arizona didn't want to go back to their original arrangement. She couldn't go back to long periods of time away from her daughter.

"Dr. Robbins, what's your biggest regret in life?"

The mood shifted in the room. This was a much tougher question to answer. Arizona suddenly looked down at her black designer heels, one holding her foot, and the other her prosthetic. After a moment, she looked back up at the reporter who'd asked the question, clearing her throat.

"When I lost my leg, I was angry. I was angry at the universe for taking something so essential to my life, to my survival, and quite literally to my stability. I was bitter, and I took it out on those around me. The brunt of it went to my ex-wife. All she wanted to do was help me, and I was," Arizona looked up at the ceiling with a dry chuckle. "I was horrible. I was cruel to her, and I was selfish, and I did and said things that hurt her. Not a day goes by that I'm not sorry about that. Those months, she probably felt so alone, trapped, and scared, and I shut her out and treated her horribly," Arizona said, trying to maintain her composure. She knew she shouldn't be saying this much. Her publisher said to keep her answers confident and brief, but this needed to be said. To be put on the record. And Arizona found herself hoping that somehow, Callie would get the message.

"I'm so ashamed of myself for that," Arizona wore a sad smile. She spoke carefully, and a sparkle glimmered in her eyes that had been missing for so long. She always looked like that when she thought about Callie. "My ex-wife approaches everything and everyone with an open mind and an open heart. She doesn't walk into any situation with her guard up. She runs the risk of getting hurt, but she also cares so much. She has a way of making you feel like you're the only person in the whole world when she talks to you. And I think I crushed that part of her. I made her feel like she needed her guard up at home because I was taking all of my frustrations out on her. And that's my biggest regret in life. Not only treating her this way, and failing her as a wife, but taking a long time to realize that she was hurting, too. And that her pain was my fault."

The room was filled with a heavy silence. After a moment, Arizona's agent looked at her watch. "We have time for a few more questions," she announced.

"Dr. Robbins, what is your favorite thing about New York?"

"Being with my daughter," Arizona stated, not missing a beat.

Much to Arizona's surprise, her girlfriend took the microphone. "I just have one question," she said with a nervous smile, sinking down to one knee, holding a velvet box in her hand. "Will you marry me?"

Arizona opened her mouth. She meant to say yes. It was on the tip of her tongue.

But nothing came out. Her lungs felt empty.

She closed her mouth, and opened it again, and still, nothing.

She tried a third time, and all she could manage was a shallow breath.

It was like the room fell into slow motion.

The question, the people, the pressure – it was suffocating Arizona. She could feel all of the eyes on her, waiting for her response.

She could see the wonderful woman smiling, holding out the dazzling ring with shaky hands.

She loved her girlfriend. Arizona swore she loved her. But she was frozen.

She opened her mouth again. One last, feeble effort at a response. Any response.

She could hear the blood pounding in her head. Arizona couldn't do this. She couldn't do this in front of all of these people. She couldn't embarrass her girlfriend like that.

It wasn't her fault that she just wasn't Callie.

Feeling the sweat bead at her crown, Arizona surveyed the room and ran off the stage and out the emergency exit. Sofia would be fine with her parents, and Arizona needed air.

Knowing that people would be looking for her, Arizona pulled her shawl around her and made her way around the massive building, finding an alley to catch her breath in.

She saw a man, who looked to be in his thirties, leaning against the grimy brick wall beside a door, a cigarette between his teeth. Given the apron tied around his waist, he probably worked in the kitchen.

Arizona smiled tightly at him.

He just acknowledged her with a nod.

"Hey." Moving closer, Arizona gestured to the pack of cigarettes. "Do you think you can spare one?"

The man nodded, handing her a cigarette and his lighter.

Arizona pulled the cigarette to her lips and lit the end. She took a long drag, savoring the sensation. She'd quit completely once Callie and Sofia came home from the hospital, but her habit resurfaced after the divorce and especially after Sofia went with Callie to New York.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing with such a nasty habit?" The man tore Arizona from her thoughts.

"I don't smoke, really. Not often. Just on really stressful occasions when I know I'm going to be in trouble," Arizona explained.

"Why would you be in trouble?" The man asked.

It was probably strange to see a woman in a ballgown smoking in a back alley, saying she was in trouble.

"My girlfriend just proposed to me at an event I was making a speech for. In front of hundreds of people. And I ran." Arizona let out a long breath, trying not to think of the long list of people who were going to be very angry with her. Trying not to think of her sweet, nervous girlfriend, who must feel crushed.

"I'd be smoking, too, if I were you," the man laughed dryly.

Soon the man's break was over, and he returned to work. Arizona stayed in the alley until her cigarette was long gone, using her heel to stomp out the last few ashes. She was curious as to what time it was but wouldn't dare check her phone. She probably had dozens of calls.

And the only person Arizona wanted to talk to had moved on.

Arizona thought she was done with this specific breakdown. She hadn't cried about it since the morning she got rid of the last of Callie's things. A box she kept in the back of her closet for two and a half years. She'd stopped going to their coffee shop in Seattle and found one with fewer memories. She'd found a new park bench to sit on during her lunch break. Arizona had felt and worked through all the feelings.

Or so she thought.

Where was she supposed to go now? A bar? To her apartment, where her girlfriend was staying for the duration of her trip to New York? To her parents' hotel?

Arizona just started walking, and she kept walking. She thought about how if this were a movie, she'd be able to take off her heels and run through the streets without her feet hurting, but her high heeled prosthesis would make her hobble. She'd have to just keep her shoes on, then.

When she finally stopped to see in what direction she'd been walking, she realized that she was two blocks away from Callie's apartment.

And it hurt. Because Callie was home. Arizona knew it. She wasn't the type to be out late on a Friday night. Not anymore, anyway.

If she were a betting woman, Arizona would bet it all that Callie was relaxing in some sweats, binging a cooking competition show. Probably with Penny by her side.

Arizona shook her head hard as if trying to manually dislodge the thought from her brain. It made her feel angry. Empty.

Arizona kept walking. She couldn't stop. She almost wished something or someone would stop her.

This wasn't healthy. It was self-destruction. Arizona was running into a minefield and she couldn't stop herself.

Things were good. They were finally good since Callie left her.

Good enough.

But they couldn't stay that way. Her girlfriend felt the need to ask that stupid, stupid question, Arizona realized nothing would ever be the same again. Good enough was as good as gone.

Arizona loved her girlfriend. She really thought she did.

And then Arizona was at Callie's building. She was on autopilot.

It felt like that moment when you're driving and your mind is elsewhere, and suddenly you're at your destination.

Except Arizona had never walked to Callie's apartment this way.

She was pulled in like a magnet. Arizona blinked and she was in the elevator. A moment later, at Callie's front door.

And before she could stop herself, Arizona was knocking.

And Callie was answering, door halfway open, in sweats just as Arizona imagined, looking shocked to see Arizona standing before her in a ball gown.

They'd been here before. Doing just this.

A different state, different clothes, different circumstances, and a lifetime ago, but it felt like deja vu.

She could hear the breath catch in Callie's throat.

Arizona took a deep breath.

"So picture this, for the first time since you left, my life is good. It's really, really good. And I'm happy. I met someone and I think I'm in love. And I'm at the party and everything is great and I'm giving my speech and I'm answering questions, and I can actually see that my story is having an impact. But then my girlfriend takes the mic and gets down on one knee and asks me to marry her and then I open my mouth to say yes and what comes out, weirdly, is nothing."

Arizona put a hand on the doorframe, trying to catch her breath. Trying to find some semblance of stability as the world is falling apart before her.

It was like all the words caught in her throat at the party had come out. And oddly enough a weight felt like it was lifted. And at the same time, her stomach was in knots because Arizona realized that Callie was supposed to say something now.

But she didn't. Another moment ticked by.

"Please don't slam the door in my face again," slipped right past Arizona's lips, voice small.

Callie just stared for another moment. Then she spoke. "I don't think I get to slam the door this time. I'm the one who flew a whole world away without ever looking back. I'm the one who left."

A choked sob came out of Arizona's mouth before she even realized it was open. "I don't even know why I'm here, Callie. I just can't stay away from you. You're like a drug."

Then the door was closing before Arizona's face and she was ready to sink into the carpet beneath her feet. She'd bared her soul. And for what? Everything was worse. Especially for Callie. Arizona should have been selfless enough to just allow Callie to be happy and live her life. Instead of coming here and burdening Callie by digging up the past.

But it wasn't the past. For Arizona, her feelings were very much present.

But the clink of the door chain disengaging pulled Arizona from her self-pity. A glimmer of hope.

Callie stepped aside wordlessly so Arizona could enter.

Arizona followed Callie to the couch, sitting as far away from Callie as possible. As if being closer in proximity would make Callie's inevitable rejection hurt more.

She glanced at the TV. Chopped was paused. Callie reached for the remote to turn it off.

"Is Penny home?" Arizona asked. She wanted to follow the question with something polite like 'I hope I'm not interrupting anything', but she couldn't bring herself to lie.

Callie shook her head, lifting her hand up for Arizona to see. Her ring finger was distinctly naked. Callie didn't offer anything more.

"How long?" Arizona asked.

"A couple of weeks after we got coffee." Callie shrugged. "Speaking of coffee, should I put some on?"

"Only if you want some," Arizona replied tightly, "I'm fine."

Another pregnant pause.

"Do you– Are you–" Callie sighed. "You have somebody waiting for you at home. I'm sure she'd like to hear that yes right about now. You were always good at keeping the suspense up."

Arizona furrowed her brow. What did that even mean? Was she supposed to be offended?

She was too tired to feel offended. Too emotionally drained.

"I said that wrong. I mean," Callie clarified, "I don't think it has to be over for you. Not if you don't want it to be. You can turn back now. It's like a movie, and this is just the suspenseful scene. You can have the resolution, too. If she's smart enough to keep up with you, she's smart enough to know that you're worth it. Worth the suspense."

"I, uh," Arizona swallowed. "I finally understand how you felt. Suffocated. I just– I want so much for her. More than being stuck with someone who–" Arizona caught herself. She didn't want to finish that thought.

But what did she have to lose at this point?

Who was she kidding? Showing up at Callie's door like this? Callie knew exactly what Arizona meant whether she said it or not.

So she did.

"More than being stuck with someone who is stuck on someone else."

Callie was silent. It felt like hot water over an open wound. Sharp and then dull. Eventually a lasting, stinging ache.

Callie wasn't giving her an out. Arizona realized that's why she came all this way, consciously or not. That's why she was here. For an out.

Fuck it. She was going to speak her mind because the opportunity would likely never present itself again. Callie was her captive audience of one, and Arizona had given up on trying not to sound like a desperate, groveling fool. That ship had sailed.

"Tell me not to say yes."

Callie blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.

And in the most Calliope Torres fashion, she responded. "What?"

Arizona took in a deep breath, shutting her eyes. Her words came out in a rushed exhale. "Tell me not to say yes, Callie. Please."

Callie shut her eyes, too. Her breath was ragged.

And moments passed in silence.

Arizona could hear a muffled sob in the back of Callie's throat.

And suddenly, Arizona began experiencing the opposite of the problem she'd had before. Now, instead of being unable to speak, she found herself unable to stop speaking. She spoke so quickly as if trying to get everything out in one breath. "I am so in love with you, Calliope. Please, please don't walk away again. You left me. And then you left me again, but it was worse because that time you took our daughter. You kept leaving me. No one has ever, in the history of my life, hurt me like you. But, at the same time, you–you were epic for me. We were a great love story. My heart beat for you – for Calliope Torres. It just never occurred to me that we would ever be with anyone else. You were perfect. You were everything. You turned my world."

Arizona felt deflated and struggled to catch her breath. It felt like a verbal marathon. She couldn't even recall what she had said. All she knew was that she'd left it all out in the open. Everything she spent years hiding and denying. And she knew that for her and Callie, there was no going back. This moment was going to change everything, for better or for worse. There was no taking this back and pretending this didn't happen.

And this is what Arizona needed. She had always been a good man in a storm, swallowing her own feelings so as not to burden others. Especially Callie. As if not knowing this would somehow make Callie happier.

But Callie had to know this, somewhere, in the recesses of her mind. She had to know that she was Arizona's everything.

And then Arizona realized that maybe Callie didn't know this. And it shocked Arizona.

In the later years of their relationship, Arizona had only really told Callie when she was prompted. When she needed something – forgiveness, affirmation, to come home together after months of therapy. It seemed that her love was just a given at that point. Maybe Callie needed to hear that this was true whether or not she'd give Arizona the out she was looking for.

Callie opened her eyes, glistening with tears. Still, she was too stunned to speak.

And in a very Arizona Robbins fashion, she once again found herself filling the thick silence with words she couldn't really recall or control. "I am so deeply, deeply, deeply sorry for hurting you so much over the years. I am so sorry because I'm so in love with you, and I will spend the rest of my life telling you that. I'll apologize to you every day if that's what you need, but, please, please don't walk away again. I came across the country to be with you, whether I realized it at the time or not. I love you. Please."

Arizona's voice cracked, and so did her strong facade. She ducked her head, tears spilling down her face. The last time she'd felt quite so helpless was the day Callie had to scrape her off the bathroom floor.

And then Callie smiled through the tears, scooting closer, placing a hand on Arizona's cheek. Staring into Arizona's eyes, she finally spoke. "You look really pretty."

And now Arizona was the one who was stunned. "I'm sorry?"

"You look really pretty. And you're wearing the leg that makes your ass go pow." Callie said, laughing softly.

"Is this what you've been thinking about? I'm baring my soul to you and you're thinking about how my ass looks in a ball gown?" Arizona couldn't help but laugh, too, a rogue tear falling down her cheek.

Callie swallowed. The moment fell serious again. "I've been thinking about how lucky I am to have been loved by you for all these years."

"I didn't think that you'd be my everything, the moment I laid eyes on you. It snuck up on me. But I don't think I've ever not loved you. I can't remember a moment since the day I kissed you in the bathroom at Joe's that I didn't love you. Believe me, I've tried." Arizona leaned into Callie's hand. She was memorizing the feel of the hand on her cheek, almost afraid that this would be the last time she'd ever be touched with such tenderness.

"You love me," Callie said softly.

"I do," Arizona replied, nodding into her hand.

"I love you and you love me," Callie breathed, "and none of the rest of it matters, does it?"

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Arizona asked, sitting up straight.

"I'm saying I love you and you love me and none of the rest of it matters. And we'll figure all of this out, because we are together." Callie said softly.

"We're together?" Arizona breathed, afraid if she spoke any louder the moment would evaporate into the air like cigarette smoke.

"We," Callie said firmly, "are together."

Arizona smiled so wide it hurt. It was a smile she hadn't had for so long. One that her face had grown accustomed to not having. A smile of relief. Of victory. Of everything falling into place.

"Weird question," Callie began with a sly smile, "but what does it feel like to kiss a New York Times best selling author?"

Arizona laughed. "Why don't you find out?"

And Callie did, leaning in, capturing lips that felt like coming home.