Alright guys, I am back at it. I am having a super hard time finishing Love You Through It and am getting pretty frustrated with it. This story is something I have been toying with for a while so I figured I would get it out and maybe ideas will start flowing for my unfinished story. I don't plan on this one being that long. I want to know what you think. Should I scrap it? Does it have promise? Is it too off base? Let me know. Thank you guys. And thanks for all the love on Love You Through It. There will be an update soon. I promise!

Arizona's POV

"She is going to need a CT and labs stat. Find me when you get the results." The ER nurse tries to object but with a swipe of my finger her protests stop and I am out of the door. I hate being the bitch. I hate the demands. But tonight, that is all that I can muster. A 12 hour shift ended with a school bus crash so the last six hours have been in the ER instead of my normal, slower paced surgical ward. With the exceptions of bumps on a few heads and more terrified parents than I can count, we have fared pretty well. Nothing too bad, nothing too time consuming. I am about to wrap up my stint in the ER when the staff Doctor grabs me by the arm.

"Dr. Robbins, if you can spare a few minutes I could really use your Ped's expertise on bed 9". He is walking away from me before I can protest so with a heavy sigh and a check of my watch, I am on his heels. When he throws back the curtain my breath catches in my throat.

Callie's POV

"How much tonight, hun?"

"It's slow. Monday's. Creeps aren't on the prowl tonight I guess." I give Monique a pat on her leg before walking past her to my "office". As silly as it sounds, calling it my office adds a slightest bit of dignity and formality to my line of work. I lean against the light pole, give a wink to a few passing motorists, and before ya know it, I got a bite.

I lean into the window and give my best smile. "What ya lookin' for, hun?" He motions me into his car and I oblige. The clean cut, well built, younger man does not fit my usual clientele, but who am I to judge? "It's going to be 200 for two hours. Anything you want. Deal?" With a nod of his head I pop a piece of gum into my mouth and pull protection out of my purse. Maybe Monday's won't be so bad after all. "We stay in the car. I don't do beds. There is an alley off of 9th where we can go. And I…"

"I'll be the judge of where we go?" I hear his voice for the first time and it is gruff and harsh. He hasn't looked at me since I got in the car. Weird. But hey, who isn't.

"Oh ok, you want to be in control?" I speak to him in my sultry voice, all the while rolling my eyes while facing the window. "I like a man in control." That is really a joke. None of these guys want to be in control. They may play the part for a few minutes but they all end up the same way. I let my eyes roam to the passing streets and buildings and see 9th street fly by outside the window. "Hey you missed" I am silenced with a hard blow to my face. I lose my breath as my head hits the window and I immediately taste blood.

"I told you I decide where we go."

Arizona's POV

"Jesus, who did this to you?" I whisper to the lifeless, battered form laying before me. Stepping next to Dr. Andrews, I allow the nurses to flutter around me, hanging fluids, checking vitals, assessing for fractures. "I am sorry sir, but uh, this is not a PEDs case."

"It might be" he retorts, lifting the woman's shirt to show a swollen abdomen.

"Pregnant?" With a shrug of his shoulders I grab my stethoscope and silence the room with a raise of my finger. I begin checking the patient's abdomen for a fetal heartbeat. Without knowing how far along she may or may not be, it is nearly impossible to determine if I should even hear a second heartbeat, but finding one is good news so I try anyway. Nothing. "I need an ultrasound." Dr. Andrews silently appoints one of his nurses to fetch my machine with a point of his finger and she runs out of the room, another nurse taking her spot at the bedside. I remove my stethoscope from my ears, prompting Dr. Andrews to do the same. "So what's her story?"

"Street walker. She has been in a time or two before. Comes across the wrong guy and ends up here bruised and bloody. When she wakes up she will leave saying she didn't ask to be brought here in the first place. She never gives us any information, doesn't carry an ID. I wouldn't be surprised if she is just dodging the bill. Leaving before we can find out who she is." My heart sunk in my chest. What kind of life must she have had to only have this to turn to?

As quickly as the nurse exited she is back with the ultrasound machine. I hastily raise the patient's shirt again and cover her lower abdomen with gel, searching for a fetal heartbeat. Nothing. I don't hear a thing. I search the screen for several minutes for the smallest of embryo's that might still be viable. But there is nothing. She isn't pregnant. I breathe a sigh of relief and relay my findings to Dr. Andrews. He nods in understanding and I replace my probe back onto the machine. Out of habit I grab a towel and begin to wipe away the gel from the dark skin of her abdomen. My eyes roam to her bruised face and I can't help but look at her closed eyes. Her cheeks are stained with mascara streaks and her hair is a mess. She really could be a pretty girl without all that make-up. "Alright Dr. Best of luck with this one." I give him an apologetic smile and throw my towel onto the discarded machine. As I make my way to the door I hear the all too familiar sounds of a waking patient. The nurses immediately begin restraining her arms and legs as they begin flailing and Dr. Andrews instinctively grabs her lower jaw to keep her from jarring her neck. Her eyes are wide and searching as she claws at the lines that have been put into her arms. I can hear the strain in her voice as she tries to lift herself from the table. I am back at the bedside in less than a second trying to keep her from hurting herself further. Dr. Andrews gruffly gives demands for her to be still and stop moving but it only seems to make her actions more violent.

"Hey, hey, hey. You are ok." I lean over the table and her big brown eyes lock onto mine. "Hey, I am Dr. Robbins." My voice is soft and slow, a technique to calm the tiny human that I see every day. It seems to take affect. "Hey, there you go. Just relax. We will get you out of here as soon as possible. Can you tell us what happened?" Her eyes remain locked with mine as she quickly shakes her head, as much as Dr. Andrews will allow. Her eyes well with tears and I instinctively shush her and find her hand to comfort her. I do not have much experience with adult patients, but contact usually works for my kids so I just go with it. Within seconds she is calmer. I explain to her as much as I can about what the nurses are doing to her and one by one they let go of her arms and legs. It isn't long before she is lying still on the table with her eyes closed, tears slipping from the corners. I look to Dr. Andrews, "Ok, you got this?" He nods and I give the woman's hand a squeeze and let go. I am not able to take two steps from the bedside when the patient begins flailing again. The staff springs into action and hurls a slew of demands at her. I am back at her side within a second and find the same warm hand that I held just seconds ago. When my eyes find hers again she calms. "Ok, alright. I'll be right here, ok? Just calm down. Let them help you." The woman takes a jagged breath and clenches her eyes tight. I should have left when I had the chance.