For the love of softball. ( Calzonia story)

Chapter 19

Team USA wakes up in the morning to a mass text from Coach Webber that they are to meet in his room at 830, dressed and ready to go. When Arizona returned to her room last night, her roommate was gone. The blonde didn't give it a second thought figuring that Callie must have been with Erica or Amelia, conspiring their next illegal act together. When her catcher finally did return, the blonde never rolled over and looked at the Latina, and Arizona never saw Torres's tear stricken face.

The two players got ready silently in the morning, Arizona showering and changing in the restroom quickly before vacating it and letting Callie in. When the Latina walks back out of the shower, hair damp but uniform not worn, the blonde knows something is up. She knew something was up when she read the text, but now that her catcher is not in their colors, the surgeon's mind starts to spin.

They leave the room in silence, Torres's head hung while Arizona walks ahead of her, and they both head up to the head coaches room. Rounding the corner, blue eyes find the rest of her team filing into Webber's hotel room, a certain brunette pitcher also not wearing her uniform.

Just down the hall from their target, Arizona grabs Callie by the wrist and pulls her into the ice machine alcove, out of line of sight from Richards room and the few stragglers still showing up. "What did you do?"Arizona asks point blank. Dark eyes just stare into blue, Callie trying to show the blonde how sorry she is. "Torres, what the hell is going on?" The blonde tries again when her captain doesn't answer. "What did you do?"

"What I should have done all along." The Latina answers, then leaves her pitcher staring at a noisy ice machine and joins the rest of her team. Nineteen pairs of eyes look up when Arizona follows Callie in, the blonde being the last one to arrive.

"What's all this about?" Lexie Grey asks, her nervous energy transferring to her fingers that are tapping out some form of beat on the coffee table surface.

"Torres, Shepard." Webber says. "Please..." Callie nods and stands, solemnly walking across the room and exiting the hotel room, followed by Amelia. Turning back to the rest of his team, but head man in charge states "It pains me to say that... Both Callie Torres and Amelia Shepard are no longer members of this team."

"What? !" More than one exclaim at the same time, every player's face dropping and the three coach's looks hardening. Derek looks like he could punch a baby and Sloan's teeth grind as he thinks about losing two of his girls. Yang, Grey, King, and Montgomery all find their way to their feet, each yelling louder over the other to get their objections heard. The rest grumble and curse in time. Everyone except Erica and Arizona. The lone captain left hangs her head in her hands and Arizona sits in shock.

"Settle down... Enough!" Richard yells over his team, making most of them jump and all of them stop. "If you give me a minute, I will explain what has happened. You all deserve an explanation." This seems to placate his girls and all the players retake their seats. Richard pulls up a chair and lowers himself down into it. "It was brought to my attention last night that... a member of this team has been struggling with a personal problem. Something that could get both her, and this team, into a lot of trouble later on down the line. So... I gave her a choice. Either step down, or wait until her drug test came back."

"Callie was on drugs?" April asks in her high pitched squeak.

"No you moron, Shep was the one getting high." Addison snaps back, all the little clues finally connecting in her mind. "Damn it Amelia..." The redhead growls, then looks back up at Webber. "Why Callie?"

"She told me that it was her idea to cover up Shepard's problem." Richard answers. Arizona's eyes dart to the blonde just five feet away from her, and meets Erica Hahn's gaze. "Torres was involved in this. She knew. She didn't say anything. She put this team at risk in hopes of beating the system. ...And she didn't fight me when I told her I wouldn't have her on this team anymore." Glacial blue eyes are locked with steel blue eyes, and Arizona's jaw clenches. Another person, maybe not completely innocent but still not deserving, is hurt because of Amelia Shepard's selfishness.

A wave of guilt floods Hahn and it makes it difficult for her to breathe. But if Callie was going to rat out Amelia, why didn't the Latina rat out Erica. It was the blonde's idea to let the issue slide, to cover it up. To wait for the drug test in hopes that the pitcher could be clean by then. Why didn't Callie spill?

"So... now what?" Charlotte asks, breaking the silence that has filled the air. "We can't go into the Games down two."

"I've already started the process of finding two alternates but for now, we play two light." Richard explains, meeting the gaze of anyone not staring holes into the carpet. "It sucks. I know that. This situation sucks, but we have to make the best of it. ...Shepard and Torres will be packing their bags and flying back home, where ever home is for them, and we will be going on to London."

"I can't believe Callie did this..." Teddy whispers, the first baseman seated right next to Robbins.

"She didn't." Arizona whispers back, sending a pointed glare to the blonde who is suppose to be the team's captain but has done nothing to show her worth in that position to Arizona since the day the newcomer arrived. "This is so messed up..."

"Alternates, like... tryouts again?" Canner asks, wanting to know how her coaches will find not one, but two new players for the team in under a week. Not just getting them cleared, but getting them worked in with the rest of the women. It's all about team chemistry, and it's very delicate.

"We still have names from everyone who has tried out, and the coaches and I will do our best to pick the best available." Webber explains very carefully. He is well aware of how treacherous it is being in the middle of twelve pissed off women. This whole thing has blindsided him and he is still reeling from all of this, but he has to work fast. Cut the problem from the team in hopes of keeping any backlash away from the rest of the girls. After all, showing up and playing in the Olympics is his job, it's what he's committed the last thirty some odd years of his life doing.

Silence descends upon the room, each person going through their own processing. Some are shocked, some light bulbs finally click, some chastise themselves for not putting it together sooner. And Arizona? She's enraged. Not only has Amelia used and abused her, but now Callie is being punished for the addict's choices. Sure... the Latina should have turned her player in as soon as the captain found out, but to be cut from the team when she willingly came forward? To let Erica go free? It's not right. It's not. And all Robbins can think is how it should be Erica who will be going home with Amelia, not Callie. Not her catcher. Her catcher. They are a team, and now... nothing. Arizona is stuck with Hahn... again.

"I know no one is happy right now, and I completely understand that..." Richard breaks the silence. "But you are still Team USA. You have the American flag on your chests, and you will continue to uphold the values and ideals that come with those colors. This is going to be hard, but the hard makes it great." One by one, gazes fall back onto the older gentleman, their coach that they all hold in the utmost respect. "We will come together as a team and fight through this challenge, and we will come out the other side stronger for it."

Callie Torres sits down the hall from Richard Webber's hotel room, her eyes glued to the wall opposite her as her ears pick up the slightest sound of raised voices from her team. Right now her coach is letting her team know that she screwed up, that she is no longer part of the team Callie helped build. She nurtured it, watched it grow, was there from the very beginning. And now she's done. Cut off like a piece of rotten meat threatening to infect the rest of Team USA.

"I don't get it..." A solemn voice whispers, and dark eyes slowly glance beside her. There, seated four feet from the captain, is the reason why everything is so messed up. "Why now?" Amelia asks, not meeting the catchers eyes. "Another twelve hours and the drug tests would have come back..."

But Callie doesn't answer her, because Amelia doesn't deserve an answer. The reason the Latina finally stepped up, did what she should have done the second she saw that pill bottle, is because she couldn't live with herself if she didn't tell. What would that gold medal be worth if it was all won on a lie? ...And now, it seems she's lost her chance at one anyways. But that's ok, because her team still has the possibility of making it. And that's all she wants, for her team to be the best they can be and go into a world competition like the champions they are. Even if it means leaving the infected few behind.

The door opens and Webber pops his head out. Both Callie and Amelia turn and stand when they are summoned in. Suddenly, Callie starts to shake. Nerves that weren't present during her talk with Richard or when confronting Amelia are racing through her body now. Her hands tremble at the thought of standing in front of her team and feeling their disappoint in her seep into her soul.

Shepard and Torres enter the, now, eerily silent room, all eyes on them. All, save for one. The one set Callie really wants to see. But Arizona won't look up, she's afraid that if she looks up and sees Callie, she will break.

"Does anyone have anything they'd like to say?" Webber asks softly.

"I think we've heard all we really need to hear." Charlotte sneers, her eyes boring holes into Amelia. With that, the short blonde stands and leaves the room at an angry pace. Miranda shakes her head, not believing that this has happened to her team, and follows in King's wake. Then another leaves, and another, and another. No one says anything to the two exiles. And that, more than anything, hurts Callie the most.

"Come on, load it up girls!" Hunt yells over the rumble of the bus engine. What use to be fourteen is now twelve women climbing the steep stairs and finding their seats in the plush tour bus. Everyone is morose, the news of Amelia's drug problem and Callie's attempt to cover it up only an hour old, and no one feels like playing. But it's their job, this is what they are here to do, so the show must go on.

Owen does a quick head count, down three with Callie, Amelia, and Webber, and then tells the driver they are ready to go. The bus kicks to life and starts to roll out of the parking lot when Arizona shoots out of her seat. "Wait! Stop." She calls, racing up the aisle. "I forgot my batting gloves." The blonde says, and gets a tight smile from her coach.

"Be quick." Hunt tells her. Robbins jumps from the bus and runs into the hotel. Scaling stairs two at a time, she reaches her hotel room and finds Callie's side empty. The Latina's duffle bag is gone and her toiletries are nowhere to be seen. Another wave of sadness and anger fills the pitcher. This is not what she wanted. Arizona wanted Callie to come clean, but not be kicked from the team. That does no one any good. Now, not only is Team USA down an extraordinary pitcher, but also the best catcher and captain they could ever have.

Moving through the half vacant room, the pitcher finds her blue batting gloves and fists them in her hands. Tears prickle behind cerulean eyes and her upper lip quivers. Needing just one second to compose herself before facing her team again, Arizona perches herself on the edge of her unmade bed. A sound of plastic crinkling makes her pause, and looking at the head of the bed, propped against her pillow, is a package of gummy worms.

The blonde picks the goodbye gift up carefully, like it might break. All those silly little talks Callie and Arizona had at the back of the bus, the innocent and not so innocent flirting, the stolen kisses... they all flash through the pitchers mind. And then those memories circle back to why their team is where they are at now. Whatever Arizona might have had with Callie is lost, all because of one woman's inability to control herself.

The tour bus's horn blows, causing Arizona to jump out of her daydreaming. Wiping the wetness that has streaked down her cheeks, the blonde stands and heads for the hotel room door but stops when her hand finds the cool metal handle. Her eyes fall to the gummies, the goodbye present, I'm sorry present, please forgive me present, that Callie left her. No words, no lasting embrace... nothing except a package of sugary treats and not enough happy memories. So with a sigh, Arizona drops the gift into the trashcan, and leaves.

"Torres, can you go downstairs and wait for me? I'd like to talk with Shepard alone for a minute." Richard Webber asks after going over what will happen with his two disbanded team members.

"Yes, sir." Callie mumbles, then stands and grabs her packed duffel bag, sans uniforms, and exits Richard's room. The walk to the elevator is slow and heavy, almost like the last walk a prisoner takes to the death chamber. She wants to cry, to mourn the loss of her dream and all the work that had gone into it, but she doesn't. Because this was her fault, she should have done the right thing from the beginning. Callie has made her bed, now she is going to lie in it.

The elevator dings, announcing the arrival of a carriage. The ex-captain steps into it and selects the ground floor, dark eyes dropping to the ugly patterned carpet below her. Silver doors close and Torres starts to descend, only for the elevator to stop at the next floor down. She looks up just in time to see the doors part and beautiful blue eyes stare back at her.

Arizona falters when she sees Callie standing there, her duffel bag hung from a limp shoulder and chocolate eyes tinted red from unshed tears. The blonde offers the Latina a soft smile before stepping into the carriage, uttering a breathless "Hey" before turning her back to Callie.

"Hey..." Torres replies, that one word sticking in her throat and renewing the wave of tears Callie is trying to keep bottled up inside her. The doors close and Arizona takes a deep breath, trying to steady her shaking hands. Dark eyes stare at the pitchers back, wishing and praying that Arizona will turn and face her. She wants to say a thousand things, she wants to apologize... for everything. For the drug thing, her brother, her failed test, her divorced parents, her lame ass girlfriend bailing on her. But mostly, Callie wants to apologize for hurting Arizona so much, for making the blonde think that all the Latina wanted was to use her.

All those words fly through her mind, a ragged sigh falls from plump lips, but all Callie can do is whisper "Arizona..." The damn breaks and Arizona gives in, spinning around and pushing the Latina against the back wall of the elevator. Their lips find each others and they share a kiss of pain and hurt and passion. All the things both woman want to say, all the feelings that can't be put into words are heard through that kiss.

The blonde pulls away first, blue eyes gazing up into the warmth of deep brown pools, searching for an answer. A way to fix all of this. But she doesn't know how. A fair forehead rests against Callie's in defeat, the pitcher's nose nuzzling Callie's. The Latina wants more, she needs something to make all this worth it, and leans forward to take pink lips with hers again but the elevator doors open and before she knows it, Arizona is walking away from her. And the Latina is afraid the blonde just walked out of her life for good.

Arizona Robbins comes storming off the mound after finally getting their third out by King fielding a soft grounder to short and firing it to first. USA is one inning away from completing their first game of the day and they are... losing. Actually losing. The best players in the nation forming what is, arguably, the best and most powerful team in the world... is losing. Everyone is off, and everyone is on edge.

Erica remains as the only captain of her team and she can feel herself losing her grip on the reins. Maybe it is the guilt of Callie taking the entire punishment, or the guilt of not standing up and saying 'I was part of it too', but she is sure everyone knows the truth. And now she is paranoid. Add that with the fact that she is catching for a certain pissed off blonde and everything is going to hell.

"Try throwing the pitches I call for you." Hahn sneers while removing her chest guard and shin guards.

Blue eyes harden and Robbins' death glare turns to the captain. "Are you talking to me?" She asks, not believing that this woman, of all the people on this team, is giving Arizona shit.

Turning and looking down at her pitcher seated on the team's bench, Erica replies "You're the only one throwing crap out there. So yeah, I'm talking to you."

The shorter blonde bolts to her feet and closes the small distance that was between them until their chest's touch. "You really think pissing me off is the best thing for you to do right now, Hahn?" Arizona growls, not caring about the height difference between her and her nemesis. The two women now have the attention of the entire USA bench, and ten other pairs of eyes watch as the last remaining two of the fantastic four size each other up.

"Your job is to pitch." Erica replies, her tone low and gravelly. "So I suggest you do it."

"My job, huh? My job is to pitch?" Arizona asks sarcastically. "So what's your job? Let your team mate take the fall for your screw ups?" The pitcher snaps, and Erica gets knocked back by a strong shove. The rest of the team is off their butts in a second, grabbing the heated blondes and pulling them away from each other.

"It should be you!" Arizona yells, both Teddy and Addison taking a strong hold on her arms and shoulders to attempt to hold her back.

"She made her choice!" Erica shouts back, that vein in her forehead popping from the effort of trying to break loose of her teammates hold on her.

"What the hell is going on?" The deep booming voice of Richard Webber filling the air. Starring into his dugout he sees his team separated, one half holding a fiery pitcher back, and the other half holding a pissed off catcher back. The coach is not happy, to say the least. Not only has he lost two of his best players, but he appears at the field just in time to see his team brawling like they were in the middle of a bar.

But when all that is given is silence, he asks again "What is going on?" The players slowly let go of the battling duo, Arizona straighten out her wrinkled jersey and Erica running a hand through messy helmet hair. Blue eyes turn to blue eyes and they both make silent threats.

"Fine, don't tell me." Richard says. "...Laps."

"What?" Arizona asks in shock.

"Laps! Now." Webber barks, giving his newest player a look that tells Arizona not to question him. With one last dirty look to the catcher, Arizona throws down her glove and takes off around the outside of the ball diamond.

Watching Arizona go, Richard turns back to his last remaining captain and adds "You too." Hahn snarls at her coach, teeth grinding in frustration but she doesn't say anything. Instead, she rips off her last remaining shin guard and takes off at a jog.

Team USA is silent, no one wanting to incur the wrath of a pissed off Richard Webber. "Anyone else?" Their head coach barks, making everyone jump. "Anyone else want to join Robbins and Hahn?" Ten heads shake back and forth. "No? Good. We got a game to play." Webber says, anger in his voice. With that, he turns his back on the running pair, silently praying that his team can overcome this latest hurdle. But something tells him that it's going to be hard fight, one that USA may not be able to beat.

The women sit in silence as the bus stops at the entrance to their hotel. Two games... two losses. Not a very good day. Even worse considering that the team they played barely made national ranking, and in just five days time they will be leaving the states and flying to London to compete against the best in the world.

Webber contemplates on saying something; either chew their asses out for performing so badly or give them a pep talk in hopes of shaking the funk out, but decides on neither. Instead, he says "Downstairs tomorrow morning, 9:30." With that, the team files off the bus. Arizona is the last to leave, having retaken her seat at the back of the bus to either distance herself from the rest of her team or be just alittle bit closer to what use to be Callie's area, she doesn't know.

When she steps off the bus, her legs stop working. Both Teddy and Addison are waiting at the doors, waving her to hurry up, but the blonde is stuck.

"You alright, Robbins?" Hunt asks as he steps off the bus behind the pitcher, followed by the other three coaches.

"No." Arizona answers quietly. Turning to face the four men who she has earned a great amount of respect for, she says louder. "No, I'm not." Mark exchanges a worried look with his head coach, but neither have an opportunity to reply because Arizona continues. "Nothing is ok. We sucked today. And Arizona Robbins does not suck."

Webber holds up a hand in hopes of placating the upset woman. "I know it was a rough day but it will get better. We'll-"

"How will 'it get better'?" Arizona cuts the head coach off. "Where in the world are you ever going to find another player like Callie? ...Nowhere. She's one of a kind. You know. I know. We all know it." Addison and Teddy slowly make their way forward having heard their friend's raised voice and thinking Arizona might need some back up.

With a sigh that was supposed to be calming, but failing miserably, Arizona adds "I can't... I can't work with Hahn. I can't. I have no respect for that woman. Not when she let Callie take the fall for what Hahn did. Torres wanted to tell you about Shepard, she did. But it was Erica that told her to keep her mouth shut. Betcha Callie didn't tell you that part, did she?" Four sets of eyes go wide as the coaches absorb this little fact. "Yeah... and I knew about the whole thing too. It was my prescription pad Amelia stole that got her the drugs. I knew, and I shut my mouth too. So... if you cut Callie for covering this mess up, might as well cut me too. Add a third place to those alternate spots you need to fill. Because..." A laugh, of all things, falls from trembling lips. "Because if Callie isn't behind the plate, I'm not pitching."

"Robbins, you need to stop and-" Mark starts, very afraid that he is about to lose yet another player. That would leave him with just one real catcher, and no ace pitchers. And... that would pretty much mean that USA is done.

"No." Arizona snaps. "No, I don't need to stop. You want me to pitch? You need to bring Torres back. That's the deal."

"This isn't up for negotiation, Robbins." Webber states, taking an imposing step forward.

But the blonde doesn't back down. "I think it is. Because Callie is my catcher. You said that. 'Whether we like it or not.' You said that. I have her back like she had mine. She could have sold my ass down the river right along with hers but she didn't. ...Because we are a team. She has my back, I have hers. That is how this works. She is my partner and I will not pitch if she is not the one catching. Torres... made a mistake. By her willingly stepping down shows that she knows that. But don't punish her for Shepard's mistake. It's not fair. It's not right." Arizona doesn't remember yelling, but somehow her chest is heaving and her breathing is ragged.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she adds "You wondered what happened between us, well... now you know. But she is still my teammate, my captain. And I want her back. Either make that happen or... you need to find another pitcher." Blue eyes sweep from coach to coach, waiting for someone to say something. But no one does, so the blonde grabs her bag and throws it over her shoulder then turns and walks away. Arizona said what she had to say, she told the whole story. She admitted Hahn's involvement, even her own involvement. She laid it all out on the line. What her coaches do is up to them.

"Are you serious?" Teddy asks, leaning across the table at the slouching blonde in a cushy restaurant booth. Arizona just told both Addison and Altman the whole story, leaving not a single detail out. ...Well, she left out the 'kissing' parts because, one, it wasn't their business, and two, Arizona herself didn't exactly know what it all meant... not anymore.

"I should have known. ..I mean, I knew something was going on but..." Addison sighs, hanging her head in her hands. The guilt that all of this is happening because of her sister in law, or ex-sister in law, is making the redhead sick. Addison noticed the younger Shepard had been... different lately, but she was too busy sneaking around and screwing Derek to bother. And then Addison was too busy NOT screwing Derek to bother.

"Addicts are... tricky." Arizona sighs, blaming herself more than anyone right now. The surgeon noticed the signs, saw the gauntness, paleness and blood shot eyes. But the blonde was too worried about fitting into the team to cause any waves. If she had just... said something, her team wouldn't be in this mess. And Callie would still be her catcher.

"They hide it. And they are good at hiding it. You have to be looking for a problem to see it, Addison." The blonde adds, not wanting to spread blame and guilt to those who don't deserve it, Montgomery and Altman included.

"And Erica didn't say a damn word the entire time." Teddy says, shaking her head in disbelief. "What is wrong with that woman?"

"She's the world's only living heart donor." The pitcher answers, making both of her dinner mate's laugh out loud in the small and comfortable restaurant. It's been a couple hours since USA came back from the double losing double header and both Teddy and Addison had to pull the blonde out of her half empty room. They said it wasn't good for Arizona to just sit and sulk, so they dragged her to dinner at a cozy place just a block from the hotel. Not only is the food great, but it also gives them a chance to talk freely without any team mates or coaches listening through the thin room walls or pushing an ear up against a door.

"Think Webber is going to talk to her?" The first baseman asks.

"Couldn't care less." Arizona sighs, blue eyes turning out to the setting sun visible through the large paned windows that make up the front wall of the restaurant.

"Do you love her?" Addison asks in a whisper, making Arizona snap back to the redhead across from her.

"Excuse me?" The blonde bristles.

"You heard me." The taller woman says with a knowing smirk. Robbins' flounders, her brain having short circuited at the unexpected question. "Fine... forget I asked." Montgomery sighs, holding up her hands in defeat. "Even though I think I already know the answer." She adds, making Arizona's jaw clench in frustration.

In truth, the blonde doesn't know what her feelings are towards the Latina. Everything is so complicated and confusing. There are definitely feelings... good feelings. But there is also hurt, and disappointment, and anger. How do you separate those feelings? Weigh one against the other. How does someone stack happiness up against the feeling of pain. Which one wins? Is there some sort of ruler or scale, a unit of measure to put it all in some semblance of order? If there isn't someone should make one. A sort of... rule book for intimacy. It would make everything so much easier.

The trio spend hours in that restaurant, leaving only when no one could eat or drink anymore. They stumbled back to the hotel with bloated bellies, but feeling much lighter after having let all their problems out once and for all. A few teammates were littered around the lobby, doing their own thing, when they pass through. But no one pays any mind to them, and the one person all three wish they could get their hands on is nowhere in sight. So they step into the elevator and head up to their rooms. The scene from earlier today replays in Arizona's mind, the feeling of pushing Callie against the back wall. ...Kissing those lips, cupping that tanned cheek, the remnants of pomegranate shampoo filling her nose.

"Hey, I got some DVD's on my computer if you're up for a little movie marathon." Teddy quips as they step off the elevator at their floor.

"Thanks for the invite but... I'm kinda drained. Rough day and all..." Arizona replies, even though she knows her friends are just trying to keep her from burrowing up into her little cocoon and coping the only way Arizona knows how. And that's by burying herself into something else, namely studying.

"Alright well... You know the room number." Addison says as she and Teddy continue further on down the hall towards their room, leaving the blonde at her doorway.

"Thanks for dinner, Red." Robbins adds, then slips her key card into the door mechanism and enters to quiet room. The stress of the day finally piles onto the pitcher and her eyes suddenly become heavy. She shuffles over to her bed, not really paying attention to the duffel bag on what use to be Callie's bed. Flopping down on the mattress, Arizona lets out a sound that's half growl and half cry.

"Bad day?" Blue eyes shoot open and Arizona somehow ends up on her feet, standing in the middle of the mattress, hands in front of her in a sort of karate type pose. Callie has to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing at the older woman. "Woah... easy, Battleship." The Latina drawls, holding up her hands in surrender.

Clutching her pounding heart, Arizona tries to calm herself. Stepping off the mattress, she stares at the magically reappearing catcher in her room. "What... where... where did you come from?" The blonde stammers.

"...Bathroom." Callie answers, pointing to the room she was in when the hotel room door opened and the Latina heard someone shuffle in. She poked her head out just in time to see the pitcher make a very disturbing sound. She waits for another question, the big question. The 'what the hell are you doing back' question, but it never comes. She decides to answer it anyways "Webber called me two hours ago... said he had heard the whole story. And that he might have jumped the gun at cutting me."

"Oh." It's the only thing that comes to the blonde's mind.

"Yeah..." Callie breathes out, chocolate and blue eyes locked from across the room. "So... I'm back. That's if... the team wants me back."

"Huh." Again, that's all Arizona has. She's not going to shout out 'it was me! I wanted you back'. No... because after all, Arizona is still pissed at the Latina.

The two are at a stale mate for another minute until Arizona's phone beeps with an incoming text message. It's Addison inviting her to come watch 300 with them. Something about hot guys with 12 packs running around in skirts... obviously they don't get the whole 'gay' thing. So the blonde politely declines again and both she and Callie fall back into the silent uncomfortableness that had surrounded them for days. They each stay on their own bed, the pitcher's nose buried back into her notebook while Callie tries to find something to occupy her anxious hands. The ugly piece of art on the far wall does little to keep her attention and she finds herself glancing at her crush more times than not.

That kiss replays in her mind, Callie trying to pick apart what exactly it meant. Was it Arizona's way of saying don't go? Or... I want you? ...Or maybe it was just a goodbye kiss, one that signaled the end of whatever 'they' were. And now that Callie is back... is that end still really 'the end'?

Somehow the time passes, and both lie awake in their beds staring at opposite sides of the room. Arizona can't get her mind to shut up and it's keeping her up. Counting sheep, imaging the ocean, hell... going over the steps for a routine appendectomy doesn't even lull her into sleep. And it's all because of that woman, the woman whose breathing sounds like a hurricane in this deathly quiet room. Fists ball the pillow under her head and a fresh wave of anger hits her now that she knows Callie is back... for now.

Torres is lost in her own thoughts, going over the entire mess that put her in this position for the millionth time. She pin points each instance where she could have stepped forward, where she could have done the right thing and maybe spare the team all this hurt and confusion. And she remembers every time Arizona looked at her with sad blue eyes, silently pleading the Latina to speak up. To be the woman Callie knows she is. Her thoughts are cut off mid stream when a pillow smacks her square in the face.

Arizona is already winding up for blow number two when Callie sits up, eyes wide in shock. "What the-" But the catcher is cut off by another hit, the blonde swinging for the fences. The soft object makes contact with the Latina's chest, knocking Torres back into the prone position. "Arizona!" She yells, but Arizona keeps wailing on her. Time after time after time, the blonde slams the catcher with the pillow. Her arms strain and her breathing becomes as ragged as when she's running full out. It's not just Callie she's beating up, but her parents, her brother, her ex... all of her anger and disappointment comes flooding out.

"Arizona! Arizona!" Callie shouts, trying to fight the pitcher off with one hand while protecting her face with the other.

When Robbins stops her assault on Torres she is panting and shaking. "You just..." She growls, trying to find the words but nothing comes so she hits Callie in the stomach with the pillow one more time. "Why do you have to piss me off so much, Calliope? God! ...Why can't I just hate you? !" Arizona exclaims, then raises a threatening finger to the wide eyed Latina. "You do something stupid like that again and I swear to God, Callie... I swear..." To emphasize her seriousness, the blonde hauls off and wallops Callie one last time then turns her back and crawls into her own bed.

Callie sits there, hair a mess after that downy soft assault, in utter shock and confusion. Did that really just happen? Did Arizona Robbins really just beat the crap out of her with a pillow? Maybe Shepard slipped Callie a couple pills just as revenge and now the Latina is tripping like crazy?

Needing conformation, Torres whispers "Arizona-" but she's cut off by a pillow being tossed at her, hitting her square in the face.

"Go to sleep, Callie." Arizona snaps, then curls around her last remaining pillow and closes her eyes.

The captain lies back in her own bed, eyes staring up at the empty ceiling as she tries to piece together this mess of a day. Getting cut, getting her ass chewed out, letting her team down. Renting a hotel room because she was too embarrassed to go home and face her family. Then getting a call from Coach Webber saying he is giving her one more chance, and if she screws up she's done for good. But the oddest incident, out of all of it, was the one sided pillow fight. Blue eyes staring at her with hurt that goes beyond her month spent with the team. Callie takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, the sound of steady breathing from the blonde lulling her into sleep. And as odd as it seems, she's comforted by the fact that she and Arizona made some sort of progress tonight. ...At least Arizona talked to her. What it means, Callie doesn't know yet. What she does know is that it will be a fight to get the blonde to open up and trust her again. But Arizona is worth it, and Callie is more than ready to fight for her.