Walk The Line

Cowritten with: majincammy

Tagline: "Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they become us."

Summary: In the wake of a horrific accident, Arizona's sinks into a deep depression where not only Callie, but Sofia also fails in rekindling her love for life? Despite agonizing pain and the realization is she losing it all, can Arizona overcome in order to save everything she loves?

Author's Note: Just as a reminder, this story does differ from the actual storyline played out in season nine. We started it before the season premiered and decided to go on this path with it. Your feedback is very much appreciated!

Chapter Two

Everybody lies. Whether they lie about their age, their real hair color, their dreams, what they do for a living, who they are or aren't sleeping with. People lie to get through the days they can't handle and the nights that last far too long. It is a second nature; it is human nature. They lie to their parents, siblings, friends, lovers, husbands and wives on an everyday basis. They lie because it is easier, because they don't want to hurt the people they love, at least that is what Arizona keeps telling herself every time she makes these physical therapy appointments.

Her intention had never been to lie to Callie at first. She never wanted to be that kind of wife, the kind that makes up stupid excuses to get out of doing stuff, she wanted to be honest and up front with her about everything. But that was before. All of this is hurting Callie and if a little white lie will stop her from being on her ass about going to something that makes her a pity project, then so be it. At least she is not lying about how she really feels-unlike a certain someone.

Arizona has been waiting for it. She knows Callie is coiled like a viper ready to strike her, but every time Arizona does something terrible, or does nothing at all, she's ready for that fiery side of Callie to strike her. But that strike never comes. Callie just takes it, she nods or sometimes she sighs, but she doesn't say anything; she just moves on like it never happened… And it just frustrates Arizona that Callie is so sweet and understanding when she should be angry and annoyed.

So instead, Arizona was angry and annoyed.

And it just made it mindset even worse than it already was. So instead of going to physical therapy, like a good little girl, she sat in her wheelchair, staring out of the window, cursing herself for falling out of the sky.

"Are you just going to hide out here all freakin' day?" a voice calls out to her but Arizona does not turn around, she does not even move a muscle in response to who is speaking to her because she knows who it is. It is the guy she got on the plane for.

"Doesn't matter, it's not like anyone cares anyway," Arizona replies bitterly, still staring blankly out the window. Ever since the accident, nobody has looked at her the same, they look at her like she is breakable, as if she is less than, and she knows why. She knows it is because of the stupid chair, the stupid chair that she would have never been in if it wasn't for Alex Karev.

"Oh shut up. Your wife cares about you. I care about you," Alex states in a gruff grumble, walking toward Arizona but the woman does not budge. Instead she stares lifeless and emotionless out the window. She wonders if it is possible for someone to die from the inside out, to just wilt away, she'll be damned if she doesn't at least try.

"Yeah, and look at where your caring got me, Karev." Arizona snarls.

"Eh, whatever, you're messed up right now, so if you wanna pretend you got nothing and the world is collapsing, I'm fine with that. But I'm gonna make sure you get to PT and actually pretend you care about your stupid legs because your wife won't. She loves you too much to confront you on this shit so she lets you get away with everything, but I don't have too," he said while grabbing at her chair, holding a handle with his right hand while his left unlocks the tires.

Arizona didn't say anything or fight him as she started wheeling her out of the apartment. He grabbed her keys from the counter and shut the door behind himself as they left the apartment. "Gonna have to tell Callie to lock this shit when she leaves from now on."

"Oh, to stop from having gorilla's march in and kidnap me?" Arizona mumbled under her breath.

"I heard that," Alex said with a smirk and wheeling her to the hospital after locking the apartment. Arizona turns slightly so that she can watch him, one leg placed in front of the other, a hustle and bustle about him. She misses that, when her legs moved like that, when she had that much control over her body and her life.

She is jealous of what Alex has and she hates herself for feeling that way.

"Hey Karev?" Arizona calls out as the doors open while he pushes her in.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." The reply is just soft enough that Alex almost doesn't hear it but when he does, it is like a new light shines upon him, like a new breath of life has been breathed in him. Smiling as he rolls her onto the elevator, he chuckles.

"You're welcome, Mrs. Gorilla," He chuckles as the elevator doors close.

Callie often wondered what life would be like if the accident had never occurred. How different everything would truly be if the people she loved had not fallen from the sky that fateful day. What would happen if both Mark and Lexie survived the accident? Would they be together? Would Mark still be the standup father he had been to Sofia while Lexie eased in as the new mother? Would Derek still be the amazing surgeon he had been before? Would Cristina still be at Seattle Grace-Mercy West? But mostly, she wonders about her wife. What if she still had the use of her leg? Would she still be a kick ass surgeon, wife and mother?

The therapist told her that she would drive herself insane if she sat around thinking about what ifs, thinking about all the things she cannot change. But she just cannot help it. Her wife is hurting, struggling to survive every single day and there is not a damn thing she can to help her. It is like she is sitting on her hands and watching her perfect one drowns time and time again. She knows Arizona is in there somehow, her Arizona, suppressed by all the hurt, all the anger, and this ghost of her lover is killing her.

Literally and metaphorically.

As a wife, she is supposed to be there, she is supposed to do all the things that Arizona cannot do, after all, she is the one who swore that is how things were going to be. But she can't do anything. She can't do anything to help her through this, anything to help her get her legs back, except sit around and wait. Wait for that fiery blonde to come back, wait for her wife to realize she has the world to fight for instead of simply giving up. The only thing she can do is sit back and watch her die day by day and just pray for the best.

But honestly, Callie thinks God has given up on Arizona too.

Callie knows what is going on, it's not like Arizona has ever really tried to hide anything. She just sits there and stares, like she's staring through life; unwilling to live like she once did. Nightmares of falling out of the sky replacing the tiny coffins that once haunted her wife and when Callie attempts to comfort her, Arizona shuts her down with that stare. So now that vacant stare haunts Callie's dreams and her therapist won't tell her why. She only says that Callie has to figure it out for herself. And that only frustrated Callie more. She wants answers on how to fix things, that's why she started with the therapist, but instead, she vents her frustrations on her willing therapist, and then she leaves feeling only a little lighter. The weight of her life is just closing in on her and it frightens her to think of what may come in the future.

Callie glanced up to the clock on the wall and realized her therapist must be running late, which wasn't all that uncommon. Dr. Wyatt handles a lot of the doctors in the hospital and she was lucky enough to get a bi-weekly appointment with the woman. Best of all, they arranged it so the appointment was during her normal working hours, so Arizona had no idea. Not that Arizona noticed much of anything anymore. Not any of the new sexy clothing Callie tried to lure her into bed with, not any of the meals she tempted her wife with, and most sad was that Arizona barely seemed to register Sofia's first steps. It was bad enough that Mark missed their daughter's first steps, but Arizona, who was physically there, had barely even acknowledged the girl's stumbling steps. Tears welled in Callie's eyes as the door finally opened and Dr. Wyatt signaled for her to come in.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Dr. Torres," Dr. Wyatt states as she sits back down in her gray chair. Glancing around the office, Callie is not surprised that it looks exactly the same, the large fish tank still floating with fishes and she wonders if she ever forgets to feed those. They were going to buy Sofia some fish before the crash but now, Callie can barely take care of Sofia and Arizona, let alone a fish.

"Sure, we're all doctors here. We understand," Callie forces a smile but Dr. Wyatt just looks at her rather skeptically before she makes another note in her file and Callie holds her breath. The stories this woman must have heard about her, about everyone in this hospital, she wonders how she stays sane.

"Any progress with your wife?" Dr. Wyatt asks and Callie sighs. Progress, what defines progress, she chuckles inwardly. Her wife is still plastered to the window of their apartment, staring blankly up at the sky as if she is waiting for another plane to plummet out of it. Her wife still refuses to speak to her about the accident or about anything at all. They still haven't had sex, or cuddled, or hell, even touched since she was released from the hospital. Arizona still is, in a way, dead to Callie. But physically, she is breathing, and physically, her arms are gaining more strength, that somehow, has to be progress.

"There hasn't really been any change. She still just s-sits and stares. Like she is waiting for something, you know? I try to lure her into coming to bed or making dinner or just something simple to get her involved with me, with our daughter again but it's like… it's like she is a million miles away," Callie sighs and Dr. Wyatt notes, still scribbling in the file.

"And how does that make you feel?" Dr. Wyatt pushes and Callie feels something break inside of her, like the fattest elephant in the whole world just sat on her chest. Honestly, it makes her feel a lot of things, a lot of things that she has been trying so hard to ignore, a lot of things that keep her awake every night that she sleeps in their bed alone.

"Like a fucking failure," Callie chokes in a disgruntled laugh, glancing through her tears at the doctor, "I swore to her that night when we found out her friend was dying that I'd do all the things for her that she couldn't do but I can't do this. My wife is hurting and all I can do is sit back at watch. And then I feel selfish because I am focusing on how I am feeling and what I am going through when I know that she is going through so much worse than I am. I know she is hurting but it's hurting me too!" Callie cries, reaching for a tissue and Dr. Wyatt nods empathetically.

"That doesn't make you selfish, Doctor Torres. It makes you human," Katherine replies.

"A human married to a robot," Callie replies as she deflates into the couch the office provides her. "I live in a constant state of fear. I don't know what to say to make her feel anything other than her pain. I can't take any of that pain away. Our daughter yearns for her touch and pleads to be noticed by her, but it never happens… Still. I mean, it's been months and I'm just… I'm even scared when I'm sleeping," Callie slide the tissue under her eyes and softly cursed at herself for crying so easily, but then again, twice a week, in this small office is the only time she can let herself go.

"So you're still having the nightmares?" Dr. Wyatt asks.

"They just get worse and more elaborate," Callie answered immediately. "I never used to have problems sleeping and I definitely never had nightmares. It was something that seemed to plague Arizona. Early in our relationship she would sneak out after I'd fallen asleep and one night I caught her and asked her why and she said she didn't want to wake me. I made her come back to bed and three hours later, she's tossing and turning and she woke me up and at first, I was horrified." Callie swallowed a lump that had once again settled in her throat.

"She was sweating and crying and totally asleep. I calmed her and whispered to her and she settled down and the rest of the night was fine. We talked about it in the morning and I couldn't believe she lived with that. So much guilt piling on her that she could barely get a good night's sleep!" Callie shook her head slightly and then laughed. A small smile crossed her lips as she looked up at Dr. Wyatt.

"But you know what? That's the amazing thing about Arizona. She cares so much for all those kids, for the family and friends that she lost, but she can't let anyone see that. She holds it in and it would destroy her nightly from the inside out. I made her talk to me about harder cases, it became something we did. I would tell her about mine too. And it helped, because those nightmares came less and less the longer we were together. That's how good things were with us." Callie took a deep breath and sighed.

"But now she gets them every night. And I try to comfort her, but she just stares at me, or out of the window, with tear tracks on her cheeks." There was a long moment of silence and Dr. Wyatt tilted her head slightly while jotting a note. She opened her mouth to ask something, but Callie looked up at her and said in a dead tone,

"That's what plagues my nightmares, you know… Arizona staring at me with her dead eyes." Another moment of silence. "She used to have this light in her eyes." Callie smiled and she was looking past Dr. Wyatt, lost in remembering better times, "Just this childlike wonder, especially when interacting with the kids in the hospital. She could make the most scared child feel at home in seconds. I mean, that is a talent and not really something that can be taught. She was so happy and go lucky, the type of person that you felt lucky to know and the way she smiled at me… I felt like the only woman in the world that mattered to her." Callie's hands moved over her heart as she savored that memory for several moments. "Now though… there is no light in her eyes. Only darkness. And that's what haunts my dreams." The way that Dr. Wyatt is looking at her, Callie sure the woman thinks she is crazy but Katherine simply lowers her pen with a sigh.

"Have you talked to her about any of this? Mentioned it? Casually brought it up that she is scaring you? Sometimes patients who have underwent a traumatic experience to choose to be reclusive, it is part of their coping. She may not even know she is hurting you." At this accusation, Callie almost cackles.

"Oh, she knows. She definitely knows. But I can't… say anything. Because that is what she wants me to do. She wants to pick a fight, so that she can have an excuse to leave. Arizona is going through the hardest thing right now and I can't even pretend to understand how it must feel to be reminded of the life you once had every day. But I just want my wife back, you know? Is that too much to ask?" Callie sniffles and Katherine sighs, with a gentle shrug.

"It isn't. But she isn't the woman you remember, Doctor Torres. And she might never be that woman again," Katherine replies and Callie shakes her head with a sigh. She is wrong about that, about Arizona. Arizona is the same woman that she fell in love that night at Joe's, she is still that woman who put everything on the line for her to make it work and she'll be damned if she gives up on her just because things are a little hard.

"She is still my Arizona. She is just going through a lot right now. Which I am too and I get that, I really do, but I can't just give up on her because she isn't bright and shiny anymore, you know? She watched our friend and our child's father die, she lost her ability to use her leg, her entire life was ripped out from under her. And she's hurting, who am I to complain about my problems?" Callie sighs with a sniffle, "but I just don't know what to do anymore, Doctor Wyatt. I just… I have to think about my daughter and I don't…. I don't know what to do anymore."

"Well, what does your head say?"

"That Arizona needs space and time. My h-head says the only way that she might ever get a jump start on getting treatment and getting better is if she is reminded of everything she has to lose. And my head says that this isn't a good environment for our daughter to be wandering around in. What if something happens to her….? Arizona can't… do anything," Callie whispers, fumbling with her necklace nervously.

"And your heart?" Looking up from the spot on the floor in which she had been staring, Callie looks at the woman as a genuine smile begins to play on her lips, a familiar light flashing within her eyes. Her heart always had and always will belong to Arizona Robbins, despite the circumstances.

"My heart says Arizona was there for me during the hardest times of my life and she never gave up on me. My heart says that I love her, that I'll always love her. My heart says…. Arizona Robbins is a woman worth fighting for. It doesn't matter if she is damaged or broken, she is here and she is alive and even if she is sad and hurt and distant right now, she is still my wife. She is still Sofia's Mama. My heart says Arizona is worth it," Callie sighs in a sniffle. Dr. Wyatt nods as she shuts the file, glancing at her downtrodden patient with a gentle smile.

"Well, I can't tell you what to do. You're in a complex situation, Doctor Torres. But in all my years of experience, I've learned one thing;" Dr. Wyatt states and Callie looks at her rather curiously, "the heart always knows what to do." And for the briefest second, Callie knows exactly what to do.

As a doctor, Arizona Robbins had been unbelievably kick ass. She knew what the patient needed before they even said a word, she knew how to calm them during their moments of panic, what to say to the parents, and the best course of treatment that would have the least rebellion from the child and still make them better. As a doctor, Arizona Robbins had been great.

But as a patient, she is anything but. Especially when it comes to something as useless and pointless as physical therapy. Hell, she wouldn't even be here if Alex Karev wasn't keeping an eye on her from the nurses' station and she knows the second she bolts, she is not going to be able to wheel herself fast enough before his scrawny ass is wheeling her back in.

It is not that she doesn't appreciate the effort, she does, but she knows it is pointless. It is pointless to even remotely try to work her leg because she can't, it is pointless to even for a second think that if she practices enough, she might just magically heal. The world might be full of miracles, but she certainly has not been on the receiving end.

Sure, she had survived the crash but what did that really mean? She might not have been crushed under the back of the plane like Lexie nor had a cardio injury like Mark, but a part of her died that day too. She may have physically survived but the rest of her died that day with her two friends, the two friends that join a long list of people who tend to die around her. And now, not only is stuck living a life that she really does not want, but she is stuck in a fucking chair. A fucking wheelchair for the rest of her miserable life.

Staring down at the numb limb, she finds herself fighting the burning embers of rage that surge through her. They should have just cut it off. They should have just cut the fucking thing off and put on a prosthetic, at least then she would be more mobile than she is now. They should have just cut it off that night in the woods and let her bled to death. Because dying out there would have been a hell of a lot easier than coming back here to live. If she was truly blessed with miracles, she would have physically died out there like the rest of her has.

She finds herself squeezing her thigh, pinching at the flesh, trying to force some type of pain in her body, some type of pain that she knows she should be feeling but she just can't. The physical therapist is mumbling away to one of the nurses outside and honestly, she is glad. Because when she stabs the pen into her leg, she is sure that he probably wouldn't be open to the idea.

She stared at the pen which was embedded deep into her flesh. Blood poured from the wound and slid down her leg and the only thought in her mind was that she was glad she wasn't wearing long pants or socks and shoes at the moment. She watched the blood, red and vibrant as a life she once lived; create a river flowing down her leg. She remembered the fleeing of drowning on that blood in the woods; the pain of each breath; the pain of each cough as blood trickled from her mouth to her waiting hands. Staring at her leg, where she felt no pain at all, made her remember all the pain she was consumed with in the woods.

Never before had she ever wished to feel pain than she had at this very moment.

"Oh my god, you're bleeding!" The voice of the physical therapist, who Arizona thinks name might be Frank, exclaims from the doorway. Groaning, she jerks the pen out of her leg before glancing over at the blonde haired man who stands in the doorway, looking as if he just walked out of kindergarten.

"No shit, Sherlock. But don't worry, I can't feel a thing. See!" Arizona exclaims as she stabs the pen back into the spot again, the blood spewing from the wound, flowing down her leg and pooling onto the floor. Frank gags a little before dashing over to her, pulling the towel off the back of his neck, placing it on the wound.

"What, are you crazy? Do I need to call psych or something?" He exclaims his eyes wide as he pulls the pen out slowly, "people don't normally stab themselves with pens in here."

"Yeah, people usually get fed all the bull shit about how their life will be back to normal and they will walk again and be better than ever in here, right? It's crap. I can't feel anything anymore. So, really, you're just wasting your time," Arizona snarls, watching as he tries to put pressure on the wound, the blood soaking through the white towel slowly.

"Yeah, I might need to get a psych consult," Frank chuckles, applying even more pressure to the wound and Arizona rolls her eyes.

"I'm not crazy," Arizona groans.

"You sure? Because you just stabbed yourself!"

"But I didn't die, did I?" Arizona growls, looking at the young boy with a burning anger in her deadened eyes, "because I fell from the fucking sky and I didn't die. A plane landed on my leg and I didn't die. I had internal injuries, and I didn't die. And I stabbed myself with a pen, I tried to bleed out but look, here I am still alive! I can't die. Because this damn leg won't let me!"

"In fact, I'm a fucking superhero! I'm the One-Legged Wonder! I flog criminals with my worthless limb. I should tour schools and hospitals and let people stab me in the fucking leg! I'll wear a pink cape and a yellow tiara. It'll be awesome. Then I'll sell the rights to a movie and a comic series. Maybe we could cut the leg off and put it in a museum for future generations to gawk at!" Arizona tirades and Frank just looks at her, skeptically, unsure if he should actually call psych or just laugh. Honestly, he kind of wants to do both.

"I don't need your help, okay? I don't need anyone's help," Arizona sighs and Frank chuckles quietly, tying the towel around her leg to make sure the bleeding does not worsen, crouching in front of her. Just glancing at him, Arizona realizes how much he looks like Tim, despite his idiotic behavior, and there is something about the boy that shakes Arizona just a little.

"Well, apparently you do. Because you stabbed yourself with your pen and if it wasn't for my towel around your leg, we would have some serious emergency that your wife would personally castrate me for letting happen to you," Frank replies, looking at the woman curiously and Arizona rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest in a chuff.

"Look, you don't want to be here, I get it. I don't want to be here either, pal. But it pays the bills. You're pissed and you're stubborn and I hate people like that, people who give up before they even try. They say you might regain the use of your leg so—" But Arizona interrupts him.

"Do you even hear yourself right now? I might gain the reuse of my leg. Like, what is that all about? Someday, I'm just going to wake up one day and it works and then the next day it doesn't? It's been months since the accident and I can't feel a thing! No amount of therapy is going to fix that!" Arizona exclaims and Frank shakes his head with a growl.

"You're giving up before you even try! You don't know that!"

"I fell from-"

"The sky, I know! I heard the story! About a million times! You've ran off all your physical therapists, but I am not giving up on you! Because you have a wife, you have a daughter, you have all these things, all these people that need you and I know that somewhere inside of you, you know that. And you know that you can't just give up on them! You survived the crash for a reason!" Frank exclaims and Arizona rolls her eyes as she pushes her wheelchair back away from the boy.

"Yeah, I must have pissed someone off in a past life," Arizona replies.

"Well, you're pissing me off in this one," Frank snorts as he raises up, massaging the back of his neck hard as he looks at her. Arizona rolls her eyes again, shaking her head as a disgruntled chuckle escapes from her.

"Sorry to be such an inconvenience," Arizona snorts, as she rolls herself toward the door.

"Dr. Robbins!" Frank calls out and suddenly, Arizona stops. Suddenly, it is as if all the air has been knocked out of her, as if her heart just stops beating only to crack deeper in her chest. For the first time in a while, Arizona feels the pang of real life in her chest. Swallowing hard, Arizona cuts the wheel to glare back at the boy.

"How dare you?" Arizona is practically fuming at this point as she glares at the man who suddenly seems so very small to her, the man who suddenly seems nothing like her brother. "Don't you ever call me that again, do you hear me? Ever! My name is Arizona. Doctor Robbins died that day in that crash and she is never coming back! She is never fucking coming back no matter how much you or Callie or this entire fucking hospital wants her to. She died! I am not Doctor Robbins and I never can be! Never again! Don't you ever call me that!"

"Or what, you're going to run away? Oh, wait. You can't run away, can you, Doctor Robbins?" Frank retorts with as much acid in his voice as Arizona has and she swears in that minute she can feel herself literally strangling him.

"Screw you!" Arizona snaps and Frank shakes his head, walking toward her, "I should have died that day but I didn't. I'm alive, God knows why because I certainly don't want to be alive like this. Doctor Robbins died that day and when she died, so did everything I believed in. She's never going to be back, she is never going to walk again or perform surgeries or be there with her daughter. She died! So screw you for thinking that you can walk in here with your pretty boy band hair and think that for a second you might remotely understand me or what I am going through! You don't! You don't know anything!"

"I know you could walk again if you weren't so damn scared all the time!" Frank exclaims loudly, walking toward Arizona who only looks at him with fragile, teary eyes, "but that's your problem, you're scared. You think you're less than. I see it in my patients all the time. You're scared and you're letting it control your life. And however miserable you are right now, you're going to be even more when you wake up one day and realized you've lost everything!" For a second, Arizona forgets how to breathe; she forgets how much real life really hurts. Choking on a cry, the darkness begins to crowd over Arizona's eyes as she wheels back away from him, her lips quivering as her body slumps in defeat.

"That's the thing," Arizona whispers, "I already have." Her voice, faint like a ghost, fades away all too quickly as she rolls herself out of the room and down the hall, unaware that standing on the other side of the doorway, is Callie Torres, who suddenly feels just as dead inside as her wife.